


Angel of Honesty

by rowdyhooligan



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Possession, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Manipulation, Not Canon Compliant, Out of Body Experiences, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 12:01:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17141372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rowdyhooligan/pseuds/rowdyhooligan
Summary: After being lied to and used by the angel Barbiel, Reader wants nothing more to do with Heaven. Metatron has other ideas but fortunately, a guardian angel steps in.





	1. Angel of Honesty Pt. 1

**Author's Note:**

> cross-posted from tumblr

Angels.

Never did you think a word that brought comfort and peace to people the world over could fill you with so much trepidation. You’d never given much thought to angels, or god, or religion for that matter; growing up in a family of hunters tended to leave you focused more on surviving this life, than worrying about the next. When you lost your parents to a pair of vetala, you didn’t waste the time or energy cursing God for taking them away from you- what was the point? You just sharpened your blades and buried the silver in their monster hearts.

As you grew to adulthood, hunting down the creatures that left misery and death in their wake, you found it impossible to believe that Heaven could be real. Sure, Hell existed, and demons were popping up with alarming regularity lately, but angels? That didn’t seem likely, in your opinion. That changed when you first heard of the Winchesters, those infamous hunters that opened a Devil’s Gate and then kickstarted the apocalypse. Word soon got around the hunting community about them and their angelic companion. In hindsight, you should have realized that if demons existed, so did angels, and they were almost worse. Had you realized it sooner, you never would have said yes.

Barbiel.

The bastard’s name still filled you with dread. Looking back on it, you couldn’t help but wonder why he’d targeted you. You weren’t some devout churchgoer- the only prayers you knew were the ones needed to expel demons. But that hadn’t stopped him from coming to you in the middle of the night whispering in your ear. It happened shortly after a worldwide freak meteor shower. He explained that the angels had been cast from their home and needed a way back to guard the souls of Heaven. The visions he’d shown you, of countless innocent souls in danger with no one to watch over them, left you shaken. It was hard to believe when he told you that he needed you to aid Heaven and earth, that without your help, he was powerless.  All you needed was to give him consent, and you’d be able to help in ways like never before.

Your last coherent thought had been that your parents must be in Heaven, because surely two people who’d done so much to help their fellow man would have earned a trip upstairs. It’d made your decision easier- if they were in danger and you could put an end to it, it was obvious what you needed to do. And if Barbiel was right, then one day, you might see them again in Paradise. It had made it almost easy to say yes to him, feeling your body heat up as a blinding white light shone around you. A rush of power had surged through you, filling every cell of your body. You could still feel it sometimes, when the night was still and you were alone. It terrified you.

At first it seemed like a dream come true. Barbiel allowed you peeks occasionally, letting you see all the good he was accomplishing with your body. He showed you his dealings with the other angels, as you all worked under another one he called the Scribe. There had been one angel that stood out in your mind, one that Barbiel seemed wary of. He’d acted as the Scribe’s right hand, his enforcer, something that Barbiel couldn’t stand. He avoided the angel if at all possible. It’d made you curious, but anytime you started to stir too much and think about it too long, Barbiel would send you back into the little world he’d made for you.

All of that had come to a jarring and painful end when one day, as you’d been ‘reading’ one of your favorite books, you felt a blinding pain in your side, filling your body. The illusion around you had fallen away as the real world had come into focus. You’d found yourself standing in a warehouse, a gleaming silver blade clutched in one hand. Your other hand pressed to your side, as white light had poured from an open wound. You’d recognized the trenchcoated angel before you, the perpetual thorn in so many sides. That was the day you’d met Castiel.

It hadn’t taken Barbiel long to realize he was outmatched. You remembered the surreal feeling of the angel fleeing your body, your head thrown back as light poured out of your mouth. It had been so long since you’d had control of your limbs that your legs had given out, sending you crashing to the floor. Before your head had made contact with the cold concrete, Castiel managed to catch you and you found yourself looking up into his ageless eyes as darkness edged around the corners of your vision.

After that day, Castiel had taken you with him to the Winchesters. When you’d come to, you’d found yourself in their bunker, disoriented from what had happened. You’d sat down with the famous brothers and told them everything that had occurred, from the moment you’d said yes to Barbiel to the instant he’d abandoned you. Castiel was particularly interested in knowing if you had any information on the Scribe, who he called Metatron. It was with some reluctance that you shared what Barbiel had allowed you to see. You didn’t entirely trust these people, having heard so many stories about the Winchesters, and being vessel to Barbiel had left you biased against Castiel.

You were more inclined to trust them when he told you about everything that Metatron had ordered done. It turned your stomach when you found out exactly what Metatron and his team of angels had been up to. Castiel filled you in on the suicide angel bombings, the countless angels who’d been killed because they refused to kneel before Metatron. Barbiel had lied to you, made you believe you were helping Heaven. All you’d done was give him a way to slaughter his own kind. You’d been in the middle of a brutal civil war, unknowingly taking the lives of countless angels.

It was Sam who suggested you stay at the bunker with them to gather your thoughts and plan your next move; maybe he sensed how reluctant you were to trust them. Dean had been more reluctant at first, no more trusting of you than you were of him. But Castiel and his brother managed to convince him that you could have valuable insight in the fight against Metatron. Much to their shock, you refused the offer. Castiel pointed out that you were now a loose end, one that Metatron would want dealt with. You knew too many of his secrets to be allowed to live. It was risky, leaving the sanctuary of their bunker, but you knew their reputation; trouble followed them like a shadow. You were safer on your own, especially once your ribs were tattooed with angel warding sigils. With the promise of calling if you remembered anything, you’d taken off.

That had been a month ago. You’d filled your days with easy cases, simple salt and burns and the like. You’d called the Winchesters once or twice, keeping your promise to share whatever information you remembered. It really wasn’t much they didn’t already know, but they assured you every little bit helped. Other than that, you dropped off the map almost entirely. You were keeping a low profile, anxious to stay off of Heaven’s radar. Which is how you’d ended up in some dive bar in the middle of nowhere, celebrating the end of another successful hunt. You sipped at your beer, looking around as subtly as possible. The hairs stood up on the back of your neck, adrenaline coursing through you. You were being watched.

From the moment you stepped through the door, you felt eyes on you. At first, you brushed it off to being one of the few women in the place. You weren’t about to be run off from some well deserved relaxation because of some wandering eyes. You ordered your drink, and kept to yourself, making it very clear that you wanted to be left alone. The bartender helped you with that. He was unusually attentive to your needs, seeming to understand without words that you were there to drink, and only drink. He helped to divert attention away from you, and for that, you were grateful. But even that wasn’t enough to stop the feeling of being under a scope.  

You downed the last of your beer, deciding to call it a night. You signaled the bartender and he came over right away. He was a looker, well over six feet with short brown hair, gorgeous green eyes, and a jaw that could cut glass. He was well muscled, giving off the impression of solid strength. You couldn’t shake the sense of deja vu when you looked at him. He had a face that you swore you’d seen somewhere before. You wrote it off as too little sleep and paranoia. It was almost a shame; if you were interested, you wouldn’t have minded getting to know him a little better. But right now what you needed most was a hot shower and sleep.

“Was there something you needed?” he asked in a mellow voice. His eyes seemed to bore into yours, leaving you feeling unusually vulnerable. Strangely enough, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant.

You shivered slightly, again getting the feeling that you knew him from somewhere. Shaking your head in an effort to clear it, you threw down some bills on the countertop to pay for your beers. “Do you know where the closest motel is? Preferably one that’s relatively clean.”

He nodded solemnly. “I do. There is one down the road that is both affordable and well maintained. It should suit your needs. Just turn left and you will see the sign.”

You smiled at his formal way of speaking- it was pretty odd to hear someone in this kind of place talk like that. “Thanks for the tip.”

He dipped his head in some sort of half bow, making your grin grow wider. As you stood up to leave, he opened his mouth to say something, before darting his eyes over to the corner and shutting it again. You followed his line of sight to a group in the corner, two men and a woman. They sat at their table, unmoving and not really seeming comfortable in their surroundings. As soon as you noted their presence, one of them looked over in your direction and leaned over to whisper something to the other two. You stiffened- something wasn’t right there. Were they the reason you’d felt like someone was eyeing you all evening? You discreetly checked your jacket, reassured by the weight of your gun and angel blade, a souvenir left behind by Barbiel.

Pretending not to notice them, you gave one last smile to the bartender and left, breathing in the fresh air outside. Your car was at the very back of the lot, half hidden in shadow. Gripping your jacket close, you made a beeline for it as quickly as possible. It was impossible to hear any footsteps following after you over the loud music spilling out of the bar. Your hand drifted to the hilt of your angel blade, fingers brushing against the cool metal. Your heart was pounding in your ears, the rush of blood roaring like the ocean.

Just as your fingers brushed against the cool metal of the handle, thin fingers gripped tight onto your shoulder and spun you around. You whipped the angel blade from your jacket, the dim security lights glinting off the polished silver. Sure enough, the group from the bar stood behind you, the men flanking the woman like a pair of bodyguards. Three sets of eyes darted to the weapon in your hand before settling back on your face, expressions grim and determined.

“You are the vessel of Barbiel,” the woman stated, voice flat.

“I was,” you stressed. “Past tense.”

“What happened to him? He has not been seen for some time, and you were the last person he took as a vessel.”

“I don’t know where he is. I haven’t seen him ever since the bastard ditched me and left me to die.”

“You will help us locate him,” she said, tone leaving no room for argument or disagreement. Not that you had any plans on obeying.

Pretending to think it over, you replied, “Nah, that doesn’t really work for me. You see, angels have been a big enough pain in my ass- I don’t want anything to do with them or your little war, understand?”

“It wasn’t a request,” one of the men sneered.

Your grip tightened on the angel blade as you brought it up in a defensive position, but before any of them could make a move, a voice spoke up behind them, “Brothers, sister, please. There is no need for that.”

All of you turned toward the newcomer, though you were careful to keep one eye on the group of hostiles. It was the bartender, standing there rigidly with his hands held out in a placating gesture. Seeing him again, outside of the dim lighting and smoke filled air of the bar, it hit you why he looked so familiar. It was Metatron’s lieutenant, the angel who made Barbiel so nervous. “Gadreel…” you breathed out.

“This doesn’t concern you Gadreel,” the woman replied sharply. All three of the angels were scowling at him, dislike heavy in their expressions. You swore you even heard one of the men mutter under his breath “Traitor.”

“Sister, please, reconsider. This woman is no longer involved with Barbiel- she will not have any information pertinent to finding him. She is an innocent.”

“Perhaps. There are ways of digging the truth out.”

You didn’t like the sound of that, her vaguely ominous tone of voice making you uneasy. Glancing around to see if it was possible to make a quick getaway, you noticed a flash of silver in one of the men’s hands as an angel blade slid free from his sleeve. A lifetime of hunting prepared you when you noticed him shifting his weight to attack.

“Look out!” you shouted at Gadreel, thrusting forward and burying your blade in his back. A blinding flash lit up the night as his grace burned out. After that, it was pandemonium. The other man lunged for Gadreel while the woman rounded on you, her own blade in hand. When you moved to block her attack, sparks flew as the two blades collided. The force of the blow sent a jarring pain up your arm and you almost dropped your weapon.

You danced around her, doing your best to avoid another blow and watching for an opportunity to strike. She was on her guard, not allowing you to slip past her defenses. More grace lit up the dark, but neither of you glanced away to see who it was coming from. You faked a move to the left, but when she moved to counter it, she anticipated your attack from the right, gripping on tight to your wrist, squeezing until you felt something snap. Pain ripped down your arm as the angel blade clattered to the ground, and her opposite hand came up to wrap around your throat. You scratched at her hand, lungs screaming for air as black dots began to cloud your vision.

Just as you felt consciousness slipping away, another brilliant flare of light flashed, causing your to squeeze your eyes shut. The hand around your throat went slack; you fell to your knees, gasping for air, desperate to fill your aching lungs. Ragged coughs burst out, setting your already sore throat on fire. A large hand floated into your field of vision and you scrambled away from it, your back hitting the cool metal of your car. Still struggling for air, you looked up, meeting Gadreel’s concerned eyes. There was a small cut on his lip, already knitting itself back together as he healed himself. Other than that, he didn’t seem to be injured.

“Please,” he said, voice strained and pleading, “let me heal you. Your hand and throat are injured-allow me to tend to the damage.”

Part of you wanted to refuse; you didn’t want anything more to do with angels for the rest of your life, however short that may be. But another part, probably the rational side of you, argued that it didn’t seem like you had much say in the matter and a broken wrist and bruised neck would only hinder you in a fight. Besides, if Gadreel wanted you dead, all he had to do was let the other angels kill you. Swallowing hard and wincing at the pain, you nodded slightly, accepting his hand when he reached out to you again.

His hand positively swallowed yours, filling you with a warmth that had nothing to do with grace. You shook it off, slipping free from his hold. Gadreel let you, moving his hand up to your neck. Steeling yourself, it took all your willpower not to flinch away when he gently laid his palm at the base of your throat. Grace soothed away the ache, relieving the pain and tenderness. You let out a sigh of relief, not protesting when he took your broken wrist in his other hand. Again, cool ribbons of grace wound around you, sinking into your skin and settling in your bones. One instant, your wrist throbbed with pain and the next, there was nothing.

Once you were healed, Gadreel stepped back respectfully, giving you your space. Turning your wrist to ensure everything was in working order, you said, “Thank you, by the way. For patching me up, and for stepping in. I don’t know what they had planned, but something tells me I wouldn’t have liked it. I owe you one.”

“You are welcome,” he replied steadily. His eyes held a mournful look as he cast a glance to the bodies on the ground.

Your heart ached for the human vessels, people like you who had been duped into serving Heaven and ended up dead because of it. The same could easily have happened to you, a fact you were all too aware of. But there was no time to mourn these nameless strangers; sooner or later, someone was going to see you and Gadreel standing there, surrounded by dead bodies. You needed to hightail it out of there.

Shifting uneasily, you spoke up. “Look, I have to get out of here, and you should probably do the same. Someone is going to notice us soon and I’m not too keen on getting locked up for murder.”

Gadreel nodded solemnly, sober gaze meeting yours. “That is wise. We should leave immediately.”

Cars keys in hand, you reared back abruptly. “We?”

“It should be apparent to you now that it is unsafe for you to travel alone; Metatron has ordered you to be brought in- he intends to locate Barbiel by any means necessary. There will be more of his forces sent out after you.”

“Why do you care?” you asked suspiciously. “Aren’t you his right hand man? Why bother stopping them- or are you planning on hauling me in yourself?”

“No,” he responded tersely, jaw flexing in irritation at your accusations. “I find myself questioning Metatron’s orders, and I…I wish to help you. You are an innocent, caught up in a conflict not of your doing. Please, allow me to aid you, to protect you.”

You still weren’t entirely convinced, but the door to the bar opened, a crowd of patrons spilling out. Making a snap judgement you hoped you wouldn’t regret, you nodded. “Get in.”

“It would be much faster if I were to-”

“No way, fly boy, I ain’t leaving my car here to go flying off. Either get in, or leave on your own.”

Sliding into the driver’s seat, you revved the engine to get your point across, startling when Gadreel appeared in the passenger seat. He said nothing as you peeled out of the parking lot, heading for the town limits. You needed to get away, both from the police and from any more angels, so staying at the motel Gadreel had directed you to earlier wasn’t an option. Soon, both of you were flying down the highway, the only sound filling the air a soft whir coming from the tires against the road.

You drove for several hours, going until you were exhausted. When you finally got too tired to continue, you pulled to the side of the road, checking for the closest motel on your phone. Luckily there was one not too far from your location and you were pulling into the tiny lot fifteen minutes later. Instructing Gadreel to wait in the car for you, you went to the front office, checking in under one of your many assumed identities. The man working the front desk looked just as tired as you felt, sleepily handing you the key to your room. “You two enjoy your stay.”

Giving him a puzzled look, you turned, only to find Gadreel standing directly behind you. Instinct kicked in and you went for your weapons, hand wrapped around the handle of your angel blade before you halted. Smiling tightly at the clerk, you took Gadreel by the elbow and led him outside. “I thought I told you to stay in the car.”

“It is unsafe for you to go unescorted. What if that man were another angel?”

Judging by the stubborn set of his jaw, you decided it was pointless to argue and let the matter drop. After picking up your gear from you car, you led the way to the room, flopping down on the scratchy motel blankets with a groan. Completely forgetting that you weren’t alone, you toed off your boots, wanting nothing more than to curl under the blankets and sleep for a few years. That plan was nixxed when your rumbling stomach reminded you that you hadn’t eaten since before the bar.

Forcing yourself upright with a heavy sigh, you noticed Gadreel standing awkwardly next to the door, looking very unsure of himself. Cursing silently, you gestured for him to make himself comfortable, groping around for your boots. “Might as well make yourself at home; I’m gonna see if I can find a burger joint or something- I’m starving.”

“You are exhausted,” he countered, “it would be unwise for you to go driving in your state. Rest, and I will retrieve something for you.”

Before you could protest, he was gone. Shaking your head ruefully, you decided to make the most of your momentary solitude and took a quick a shower, washing away the grime of the road. Changing into your pajamas, you were getting cozy in bed when he reappeared, grease stained bag in hand. You took it from him with a grateful smile, practically inhaling the burger he’d brought you. Gadreel perched at the end of the bed uneasily, clearly unsure of what to do with himself.

“Thanks Gadreel, that really hit the spot. I didn’t realize how hungry I was.”

“You are very welcome. Sleep- I will watch over you.”

“You just gonna sit there all night? I have to be honest, that’s a little creepy.” Too exhausted to question the wisdom of it, you patted the empty side of the bed. “You can at least lay down and make yourself comfortable. But ditch the shoes first.”

It was hard not to laugh at the look of shock on his face at your words. “If…if you’re sure…I do not wish to make you uneasy.”

Laying back and curling up on your side, you spoke through a yawn, “Just lay down Gad.”

Sleep already calling to you, your eyes slid shut as you felt the bed dip beside you, warmth surrounding your chilled body. You buried your face in the pillows, strangely comforted by the reserved angel’s presence at your side. Despite having known him only for a few hours, it felt natural for him to be there. Before you could analyze the thought too closely, you were asleep, safe under the watchful eye of your guardian angel.


	2. Angel of Honesty Pt. 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Gadreel hit the road, on the run from Metatron.

Running through your usual morning routine, your thoughts kept creeping back to the night before. It was the best night’s sleep you’d had in years, and you had a sneaky suspicion you knew why. Gadreel had said nothing when you woke up, refreshed and relaxed after a night with no nightmares. The angel simply nodded at you in greeting, rising from the bed when you did. You ducked into the bathroom to change and brush your teeth, feeling grateful towards the angel. You knew from first hand experience that angels could manipulate dreams, and something in Gadreel’s expression told you he had held to his promise to watch over and protect you, even from your own mind.

After you’d packed your bags and checked out, Gadreel directed you toward the twenty-four hour diner where he’d picked up your dinner last night, insisting you needed to eat breakfast. Shooting the angel an amused glance at his mother henning, you didn’t object, your stomach rumbling as the scent of grease and syrup hit your nose the instant you walked through the door. In no time at all, you were seated and placed your order, insisting Gadreel at least order a cup of coffee so he wasn’t just sitting there looking out of place.

Once your food arrived, you dug in with gusto, moaning as the tastes hit your tongue. Gadreel shifted in his seat, and when you looked over at him, you couldn’t help noticing the faint blush across his face. Unwilling to think about it too much, you set down your fork momentarily, clearing your throat to gain his attention. Once those intense eyes were focused on you, you began, “So, not that I’m ungrateful, but I’ve got some questions about last night.”

“I assumed you would,” he replied, “I shall answer to the best of my abilities.”

“Okay, first of all, why does Metatron want me brought in? I don’t know where Barbiel went or how to find him. Second, why did you save me? What’s in it for you?”

“As to why Metatron wants Barbiel found, or why he believes you may know where to find him, I cannot say. All I know is he is very insistent Barbiel be located.” He paused, seeming to search for the right words before continuing. “As for why I assisted you, it is as I said before- you are an innocent, dragged into a war not of your doing. When I became aware of the fact Barbiel abandoned you and left you for dead, I grew…concerned.”

“Concerned?” you repeated, puzzled by his words.

He nodded solemnly. “Yes. To abandon a vessel, to discard it once it is injured without care for its survival is shameful for an angel. When a vessel grants permission as a sign of faith, the angel is responsible for its well-being. At least, I have always believed so. It seems many of my brothers and sisters no longer share this sentiment; Barbiel’s callous disregard for your life shows me that.”

It stunned you that an angel would hold such high regard for your safety- you were a virtual stranger to him, but he showed more concern for your well-being than anyone except your parents ever had. Pushing your food around on the plate, you asked, “You said last night that you were questioning Metatron’s orders- what did that mean?”

He stilled, big hands curling into tight fists on the tabletop. “Metatron,” he began slowly, “has betrayed the faith my brothers and sisters have placed in him, that i have placed in him. He has convinced them that they must sacrifice themselves for the glory of Heaven.”

“You mean the suicide bomber angels?” you asked softly. At his surprised look, you explained, “When Barbiel left, Castiel told me what was going on. He said that some angels were getting brainwashed into blowing themselves up because of Metatron. I didn’t want to believe it, but…”

“Metatron’s cruel use of my family must be stopped- he is completely remorseless of his actions. I can no longer turn a blind eye to his methods, and I regret deeply that I ever supported him.”

Taking in the earnest look on his face, it was impossible not to believe him. You couldn’t help sympathizing with him; after all, you knew all too well how it felt to be duped into thinking you were doing the right thing. “So what’s the plan?” you asked, pulling him from his melancholic thoughts, “I’ve got a few safe houses for when I need to lay low, but there’s no way Barbiel doesn’t know about them. I can’t take the risk of him, or any other angels he may have told finding me.”

Hesitantly, as if worried of what you might say, Gadreel began, “There is a place I know of that may be safe. For you, at least.”

“What place?” you asked curiously, not missing how he excluded himself.

“A safe house similar to your own…a bunker, if you will…”

“You mean the Winchesters?” you said incredulously.

Pursing his lips, Gadreel answered, “Yes. I assume that Castiel introduced you?”

“Yeah. After Barbiel ditched me, Castiel took me to their little underground lair. They actually wanted me to stay there with them, but the stories about them…let’s just say not many hunters haven’t heard of their reputation; they’re infamous, and I really don’t want to get mixed up with that. Being a hunter is hard enough as it is, ya know?”

“I do not know,” he said with a shake of his head, “however, you may no longer have the luxury of declining the offer. Their bunker is a veritable fortress- you will be safest there.”

“And what about you?”

Chances were the offer extended to you was still good, but both of you knew Gadreel wouldn’t be welcome. Swallowing hard and breaking eye contact with you, Gadreel didn’t answer, taking a tiny sip of his coffee and promptly grimacing at the taste. Smiling faintly at the angel, a surge of something almost like protectiveness went through you. Despite the fact that he was an angel, and someone you knew to have been working for the enemy, you couldn’t help but feel that it would be wrong to abandon him. He’d risked a great deal to help you; you couldn’t just leave him to fend for himself. Doing so would make you no better than Barbiel.

Before you could say anything, your phone went off, shrill ring piercing the air. With a frown you looked at the number on screen, surprised at what you saw: Castiel. You hadn’t spoken to the angel in weeks and a sense of foreboding filled you as you answered. “Castiel?”

“Where are you?”

Straight to the point then. “I’m not sure to be honest. Somewhere outside Dallas, I think. Why?”

“How quickly can you get to the bunker?”

“I don’t know, about eight, nine hours? Why? What’s going on? Is this about Metatron wanting me brought in?”

“You already know about that? I was calling to inform you that my forces have become aware that Metatron is hunting for you. It’s no longer safe to be on your own.”

“Yeah, about that,” you paused, glancing at Gadreel. He looked anxious, undoubtedly able to hear what Castiel was telling you. Licking your lips, you continued, “I ran into some trouble already. Last night, I got jumped by a group of Metatron’s angels. They’ve been dealt with but, like you said, it’s not safe. I was actually about to call you guys and see if it was okay for me to take you up on your offer.”

“You dealt with a group of angels on your own?” he asked, sounding vaguely impressed.

“Not exactly,” you confessed. Gadreel shifted in his seat uneasily, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. You had to resist the urge to reach for his hand in reassurance. “I had help.”

“Who?” Castiel questioned, curiosity and suspicion heavy in his voice.

“Gadreel.”

There was a beat of silence, followed by a disbelieving, “Gadreel is with you?”

“Yeah, he’s here, he helped me. It was three to one, and he stepped in.” Locking eyes with the stoic angel, you added, “He saved my life.”

Castiel didn’t say anything for a while; you imagined he was having a hard time digesting this new information. You couldn’t blame him- you were still trying to wrap your head around it. As for Gadreel, he sat as still as a statue, grim expression not giving away much. If you had been less adept at reading people, you would have missed how his eyes tightened the longer Castiel remained silent, or the white ring around his mouth as he pressed his lips together. As much as he tried not to show it, he was anxious.

“I will speak to the Winchesters,” Castiel finally spoke up in a wearied tone. “I can assure you, you will be welcome but my brother…”

“Sorry Castiel, as great as the offer is, it’s a package deal. Together, or not at all,” you replied firmly.

Judging by the stunned look on his face, you could tell Gadreel had been bracing himself for you to leave him behind for the safety of the Winchester bat cave. This time you didn’t bother fighting the urge to reach out, gently shutting his mouth with a slight smirk. Feeling his stubbled rasp against your fingertips sent a delightful shiver down your spine, one you didn’t have time to analyze before Cas was speaking again.

“You realize how much bad blood there is, correct?”

“Yeah, I know, no one can hold a grudge like a hunter. But here’s the thing, I owe a debt and I’m not gonna pay it back by bailing on the person who literally saved me. Listen, I appreciate the heads up and that you guys are willing to help me, but if Gadreel isn’t welcome, neither am I. We’ll figure something out, don’t worry.”

Another long silence, followed by, “Eight or nine hours to get here?”

“Roughly,” you affirmed, confused.

“Make it nine. I’ll speak to the Winchesters, and I’ll need all the time I can get. May I speak with my brother please?”

You handed the phone off to Gadreel, finishing your breakfast as he spoke with Cas. You couldn’t hear what the trenchcoat wearing angel was saying and Gadreel had schooled his features back into a pretty impressive resting bitch face. He glanced over at you occasionally, replying to Castiel in Enochian. You couldn’t really remember enough to translate what he was saying, much to your frustration.

Since you couldn’t eavesdrop, you did the next best thing and gave Gadreel as much privacy as possible, turning your attention back to your breakfast. You were just polishing off the last few bites when Gadreel hung up the phone, the expression on his face difficult to read. Taking your phone back from him, you drained your coffee cup, waiting for him to say something.

Looking away from you, he said, “If you are finished, perhaps we should be on our way.”

You nodded, signalling for the check. Soon, you were on your way again, heading for the Winchester bunker. Keeping your focus on the road, you spoke up. “You know I wasn’t going to bail on you right? I meant what I said- I’m not gonna just leave you to fend for yourself against Metatron, especially after you saved me. Whatever the Winchesters say when we get there, if you’ve got my back, I’ve got yours.”

“That is very kind; I shall try to prove myself worthy of it,” he replied softly.

No more was said between the two of you, silence falling in the car. It wasn’t an uncomfortable or awkward one; on the contrary, you hadn’t felt so at ease in someone else’s company this soon after meeting them…ever. You didn’t dwell on it, quietly watching the miles slip by.

When lunchtime rolled around, you wanted to keep driving, asking Gadreel to see if he could find a candy bar in the glove box for you to snack on. The angel frowned, and you could already feel the lecture coming on. Sure enough, he began going on about how you needed to eat a real meal, not junk food. Perplexed at his insistence, you said, “You know Gad, I’ve never had anyone worry so much about my eating habits before. We’re kind of on a time crunch here.”

“I realize this, but I swore to watch over you, and I aim to keep that vow. There is time enough for you to eat. Besides, should anymore of Metatron’s forces find us, you will need your strength.”

He had a point. Stomach rumbling, you pulled off the interstate at the next rest stop, grabbing a quick meal from the least questionable looking restaurant and eating in the car. As you dug in, your attention drifted over to Gadreel, who was busy surveying the crowd. Your lips quirked up into a smile as you took in his grim expression; in all your years hunting, you’d never met anyone as on edge as he was. Part of you could understand his constant vigilance but another part thought the angel could really stand to loosen up a bit. However, given what you knew of his history, it couldn’t be easy for him to relax.

“Say Gadreel,” you spoke up suddenly, “I don’t think I ever said so, but- thank you. I know you’re risking a lot- giving up a lot- sticking with me and I just wanted to say thanks.”

He looked over at your, startled at your unexpected words. “Your thanks are appreciated, but unnecessary.”

“Even so, thank you.”

Looking slightly flustered, he nodded, mumbling out a quiet, “You are welcome.”

It occurred to you that he probably wasn’t used to getting thanked for anything; most, if not all, angels held him personally responsible for Eden, even though Lucifer was the one truly to blame for the corruption of man. You couldn’t begin to imagine what it must have been like for him, to be imprisoned and hated by your own family. You’d never had much growing up a hunter, but one thing you could always rely on was the love of your parents.

Swallowing down a swell of sympathy, you finished your meal and cranked the engine without another word, eager to be on your way. This time, the silence wasn’t so easy and you turned on the radio to fill the void. You drove on, only stopping occasionally for bathroom breaks and to stretch your legs. Gadreel didn’t complain, staying in the car when you told him he didn’t have to shadow you after the first stop. He’d been reluctant to leave your side, but relented after you insisted.

The sun was just thinking about setting when you rolled into Lebanon. Your ass was sore and you were getting antsy, having powered through the last few hours so you could make it before sundown. All you wanted was to stretch your cramped muscles, but your bladder had other ideas. Spotting a gas station, you pulled over, handing your phone to Gadreel. “Call Castiel and let him know we’re in town. I’ve got to make a pit stop- be back in a minute.”

“As you wish.”

Ducking into the bathroom, you relieved yourself as quickly as possible, anxious to make it to the bunker now that you were so close and worried about the kind of reception you’d receive with Gadreel in tow. A woman walked in as you were drying your hands, making a beeline for the sinks. You stepped to the side to give her more room, but she just crowded closer.

Hunter instincts flaring, you reached for the angel blade tucked into your boot, bringing it up just in time to meet hers. Sparks flew as the blades clashed, the screech of metal on metal echoing off the tile. You whirled away, the force of the angel’s momentum sending her crashing into the bank of sinks. She bounced off of them, spinning around to face you, charging for you head on. You parried her blows, ignoring the flairs of pain when she landed a hit, scrambling to come up with a plan. The last thing you wanted was to leave an empty vessel, a dead body, so close to the Winchester lair.

Inspiration struck, and you wrestled her into a stall, struggling to get her head into the toilet bowl. She fought against you, but you mustered your strength to keep her down with one hand. With the other, you dug into one of the gashes in your side from where she struck you, painting a sigil on the side of the stall in your own blood. Just as she managed to shake you off, you slammed the bloodied palm of your hand down, activating the banishing sigil. She vanished in a blinding flash of light, leaving you panting, bleeding, and alone.

Gasping for breath, you struggled to your feet. With the adrenaline of the fight waning, you felt every one of the injuries she’d left. All you wanted was to get back to the car, but first you had to clean up the scene, not wanting to leave anything suspicious behind that could draw the attention of the police. Soon, you’d cleaned up the bloody sigil and stumbled out the door, trying to avoid drawing too much attention. Gadreel was still in the phone with Castiel, not noticing anything amiss until you were in the car. When you reached out with a bloody and shaking hand to start the car, he glanced down at it, doing a double take when he noticed your injuries.

The phone slipped from his grasp, Castiel’s voice coming through as Gadreel grabbed onto your arm, eyes surveying the damage left on your flesh. Brow furrowing, he growled out, “What happened?”

“Angel cornered me in the bathroom. Had a bit of a scuffle, but don’t worry, I banished her.”

“I should have been there,” he rumbled, guilt heavy in his voice.

“In the bathroom? No way, that’s a little too much togetherness,” you joked weakly, trying to lighten the mood. It didn’t work; the look on his face just got darker.

Pursing his lips, he gently held onto your bloodied palm, running his other hand down your side. You sighed as grace poured over you, knitting your torn flesh back together and easing your pain. This was the second time in two days that he’d had to heal you, something that irked you immensely. “This is starting to become a bad habit,” you murmured, “I swear I’m not this careless most of the time.”

“I believe you,” he replied just as softly, still maintaining his grip on your hand even as he withdrew his grace. His eyes bore into yours as he continued, “You would not have survived long in this lifestyle were you unskilled or incapable. It speaks volumes that my brothers and sisters feel they must face you in groups or ambush you; that alone is testament to your capabilities.”

“Is anyone there? What’s going on? Will someone answer me?”

Castiel’s voice cut in before you could respond. With palpable reluctance, Gadreel released his hold on you, never once breaking eye contact as he grabbed your phone from where it had fallen to the floor. You knew you weren’t imagining the protectiveness in his gaze as he answered Castiel, “I fear we’ve run into more of Metatron’s forces. There was an ambush waiting- I do not know how they found us.”

Castiel swore loudly, his voice muffled as he spoke to someone else; you could only assume it was one of the Winchesters. After a moment, he instructed, “Get here quickly, the both of you. You’re vulnerable, more vulnerable than we realized. We have a lot to discuss once you’re here.”

The line went dead, and you were left sitting there staring at Gadreel in silence. After a minute, you cleared your throat, starting the engine and pulling away from the parking lot. The heat of his gaze burned into the side of your face, and you had to steel yourself to glance over at him. Sure enough, his focus was on you, the intensity of his eyes almost unnerving. Shifting your focus back to the road, you began, “Gadreel-”

“I’m sorry,” he cut you off abruptly.

“For what?” you asked, surprised.

“For not coming to your assistance in dealing with that angel,” he answered mournfully. “I made a vow to protect you, and you were injured. I should have been at your side, not sitting in this tin contraption.”

“Okay, first of all, don’t knock my car. Second, it wasn’t your fault. I told you, following me to the bathroom is a little creepy and not something I need an audience for. You didn’t know I’d have company. Don’t beat yourself up Gad.”

“But you could have been hurt, could have been taken or worse.”

“But I wasn’t. I’m here, and I’m fine, thanks to you. So enough with the angsty look of doom on your face okay. I’m good, and we’re almost to safety. I don’t blame you Gadreel- if anything, I’m damn grateful.”

“You are?” he asked, disbelief heavy in his tone.

The bunker entrance came into sight, and you pulled up to it, shutting off the engine and turning to face Gadreel. Taking his hands in yours, you looked him dead in the eyes as you said, “Yes, I am.”

He lowered his eyes, the crease between them smoothing out as he absorbed your words. You silently willed him to trust you, watching as he struggled to believe what you said, struggle with his own lack of self worth. You were no fan of angels in general, but seeing him like this, so bereft of belief in himself made your heart ache. You held on tight to his hands, unwilling to be the first one to let go.

Several minutes passed and eventually he was the one to pull away. Peeking at you through his lashes, the setting sun casting him in gorgeous hues of red, pink, and purple, he whispered, “Thank you. For everything- thank you.”

Heart fluttering in your chest, you were struck with the overwhelming need to kiss him, shocked at the urgency of the feeling. It hit you hard, the desire fierce and sudden. Before you could make a fool of yourself by acting on it, your phone chimed, notifying you of a new text. The spell broken, you broke eye contact and pulled up the new message, typing out a reply to Cas, letting him know you were outside the entrance. Drawing in a steadying breath, you turned to Gadreel, forcing yourself to act natural. “You ready?”

He nodded solemnly, “If you are.”

“Remember what I said- they take both of us, or neither of us. Together, or not at all.”

Exiting the car with Gadreel following a step behind like a second shadow, you stood before the entryway, taking a deep breath and listening as footsteps from inside drew closer. “Showtime.”


	3. Angel of Honesty Pt. 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After reaching the safety of the bunker, Reader and Gadreel are brought up to speed on the situation surrounding Barbiel and Metatron.

Your butt was sore, your head throbbing, and your temper fraying. You’d been arguing for what felt like hours now, going round and round with the Winchesters. All you wanted was to go to sleep, but that wasn’t going to be an option any time soon. You’d thought- hoped- that nine hours would be long enough for Cas to ease the brothers into the idea of Gadreel staying. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case.

“Look, how many times do I have to say it- he saved my life, okay? He’s done nothing but look out for me, even though he had the perfect opportunity to hand me to Metatron himself. Doesn’t that count for something?” you said wearily, rubbing your temples in a desperate bid to ease the headache you could feel forming. 

“No,” Dean answered angrily, his hands clenched into fists as he eyeballed the angel looming behind you, “he’s screwed us over too many times, how do we know he’s not gonna turn on us again! He can’t be trusted!”

Gadreel remained silent, saying nothing in his own defense. It was left to you to plead his case. “Dean, he’s been alone with me all day, and the only thing he’s done is heal me. If he wanted me dead or captured, I would be.”

“He’s killed people before!”

“He’s also saved people before!” you snapped, your patience at an end, “Or did you forget about that? I know about how he resurrected Cas! And your friend Charlie! They’d both be dead now if it weren’t for Gadreel! Oh, that’s right, so would Sam! It’s because of him that you even have a brother standing beside you!”

“That’s not-” he began hotly, but was cut off abruptly.

Sam stepped forward, a hand coming up to rest on Dean’s shoulder, quieting the elder brother temporarily. You met his eyes head on, frustrated and unwilling to back down. He gazed back at you steadily, searching your face for who-knows-what. Whatever he was looking for, he apparently found, giving a satisfied nod and shooting you a tiny smile that you weren’t expecting. Bracing yourself for whatever he had to say, you were surprised at his words.

“You’re right.”

“Huh?” “What’d you say?” you and Dean said at the same time.

Fidgeting a little under the sudden scrutiny of everyone’s focus on him, Sam shuffled forward and repeated, “You’re right- I wouldn’t be standing here and neither would Cas. I’ll be honest- I wasn’t thrilled when Cas said you were bringing company, especially when I found out who it was.” He paused, gaze flitting over to Gadreel before returning to you. “But with everything that Cas told us, and now you, it’d be stupid to hold a grudge. There’s too much at stake to risk it all on being petty.”

“Sam, the guy friggin’ possessed you!” Dean protested.

“Yeah, and he didn’t act alone, now did he?” Sam shot back, shutting Dean up. Heaving a sigh, the younger Winchester continued,”Look, I’m not saying I’m not still angry about it, because believe me, I am. But we’ve got to put our personal issues on the backburner and focus on the problem in front of us.”

“Are you serious?” Dean asked incredulously.

“Yeah, I am.”

Looking between his brother and Cas, he could see he was outvoted. Jaw clenched, he turned on his heel and stalked away. A door slammed somewhere deep within the bunker, and you guessed he’d gone off to sulk in his room. Releasing the breath you didn’t realize you were holding, you shared a look with Gadreel, trying to reassure him without words that everything would be okay. It didn’t work; his grim expression remained unchanged, not that you could blame him.

Turning back to Sam, you asked him point blank, “Is Dean gonna be an issue? Because we can go; I don’t want to come between you and your brother. Gadreel and I can stop at one of my safe houses long enough to grab some supplies and hit the road.”

“I’ll talk to him. It might take a while, but just give him some time.”

“Well, time is one thing I have plenty of until I figure out why the hell Metadouche wants me brought in,” you sighed, pulling a chuckle from Sam.

“About that,” Cas suddenly spoke up, “my informants have found out some interesting news. Perhaps we should move this into the war room.”

You nodded your agreement, even though your head was pounding and all you really wanted was some food and a nap. Before you could move, Gadreel got your attention with a gentle hand on your arm. Looking back at him, he eyed you questioningly, asking softly, “Are you well? You were rubbing at your temples earlier.”

“I’m fine, Gad,” you answered just as softly, giving him a tiny smile.

He didn’t look entirely convinced, but before he could press the issue, you slipped out of his hold to follow after Sam and Castiel, leaving him to catch up. By the time you reached them, they had already seated themselves around the impressive table dominating the center of the room. You took your seat, waiting quietly as Gadreel sat next to you, close enough to feel the brush of his jacket against your arm. Ordinarily, you’d find such closeness uncomfortable, but with Gadreel, you didn’t mind so much.

You were surprised when he cleared his throat, leaning forward to gain everyone’s attention. “I know how difficult it must be for you to allow me here, Sam Winchester, and I would like to extend my thanks. Your kindness is…unexpected and very much appreciated. I’ll strive to prove myself worthy of it. Whatever I can do, whatever aid I can lend, it is yours.”

He sat back, seemingly unaffected by the stares aimed his way because of his little speech. You glanced down at the table, hiding the small grin tugging at the corners of your mouth. When you looked back up, his eyes were on you, an unreadable expression on his face. Your could feel your cheeks heat up under his gaze, but before you could say anything, Sam gave a surprised thanks, taken aback by the sincerity in Gadreel’s voice.

Bringing everyone’s attention back to the matter at hand, Cas began, “Since you left the bunker, I’ve had some of my soldiers infiltrate Metatron’s forces in order to discover what his plans for you are. It’s taken some time, but what they discovered is…enlightening. And troubling.”

“You care to elaborate,” you asked when he stopped.

“It seems Barbiel intended to betray Metatron. From what information they were able to gather, it appears as though the angel tablet has gone missing and Barbiel is to blame.”

A deep silence took over, everyone shocked at Cas’ words. You could feel the blood drain from your face at his announcement, eyes going wide in disbelief. Of all the things he could have said, you weren’t expecting that. The angel tablet missing spelled a world of trouble. It made sense now why Metatron was so desperate to get his hands on Barbiel; you would be too in his shoes.

“You’re certain?” Gadreel asked, sounding just as stunned as you felt.

Glancing at him, you couldn’t imagine what he must be feeling. It was he who had stolen the tablet and given it to Metatron in the first place, after all. He knew better than anyone the high price paid for that bit of stone. You reigned in the urge to take his hand in reassurance, clasping your fingers together tightly in your lap.

“As certain as we can be,” Cas replied, pulling you from your thoughts. “Naturally, Metatron is reluctant to let this information become public, if it’s true, so there’s no real way of knowing how accurate it is. There has been a marked increase in activity from what we’ve seen- whole groups of angels dispatched on ‘secret assignments’, all of whom have the same instructions: to find Barbiel. Or you,” he finished, looking directly at you.

“But why me though?” you asked, shock wearing off and anger taking it’s place. “I don’t remember anything. Barbiel never showed me what he was doing, he made sure of that. I don’t know anything about the tablet or where he could be. So why come after me? I can’t help what that son of a bitch did while walking around in my body. I didn’t know anything that was going on.”

Tears of frustration made your eyes burn, but you refused to let them fall. You weren’t going to be seen as a baby, someone who broke down at the first hint of trouble. You were a hunter damn it, and you would damn well act like one. That’s what you kept telling yourself as you felt the eyes of the others on you. Jaw clenched tight, you nearly jumped when you felt a tentative hand brush your knee under the table. Fighting back the urge to scream in anger, you allowed Gadreel to take your hand in his, the warmth of his skin grounding you and calming the building rage. He didn’t say anything, merely let you grip onto his fingers like a lifeline.

Cas continued, unaware of what was going on underneath the table. “There are methods to…extract information, even information the person doesn’t know they possess.” He paused, inhaling deeply as he got lost in some memory. You were willing to bet that Castiel knew about these methods from first hand experience. “However, I’m uncertain that a human could survive the process.”

Gadreel’s hand tightened around yours, clutching at you as if afraid you’d disappear if he let you go. You welcomed the pressure, more than a little uneasy about the idea of being tortured by Metatron and his angels for information you may or may not be able to provide. All you’d wanted to do when you said yes to Barbiel was help, to do what you could to make sure that Heaven would be safe. Never in a million years did you foresee it blowing up in your face so spectacularly. If Barbiel ever  _was_  found, you’d kill the son of a bitch yourself.

As it was, he was doing a magnificent job at hiding. No one had seen or heard from him since he’d left your body. Castiel explained that he had men on Barbiel’s trail as well, determined to get to the runaway angel before Metatron could. He didn’t mention what he would do to Barbiel once he was found and you didn’t ask. It was with a sinking heart that you realized you were grounded for the foreseeable future.

“So, I’m under house arrest until Metatron is defeated, or Barbiel or the angel tablet are found,” you muttered under your breath, realizing belatedly that Cas and Gadreel could hear you clearly. Shaking off the desire to wallow in self-pity, you squared your shoulders and did what hunters do best: buried your emotions to be dealt with never. Feeling sorry for yourself wasn’t going to accomplish anything, something you learned well as a child. “So,” you said aloud, “any ideas as to where he could be hiding?”

“Several,” Cas answered, “but we need to proceed with caution- we cannot risk Metatron catching word of where we’re looking. I was actually hoping the two of you could provide some assistance.”

“Anything,” Gadreel replied before you could speak up. He still clung to your hand, and you got the distinct impression he wasn’t going to let go until told to do so. “I meant what I said brother- if there is any aid I can offer, consider it done.”

“What he said,” you piped up, “I want this bastard found ASAP. What do you need?”

“What do you remember of Barbiel?” Cas asked you. “I am aware that he kept you dormant much of the time he used you as a vessel, but of the moments you were aware, what do you recall? Anything will help.”

“Not much,” you admitted, “he came to me shortly after the angels fell. He said that Heaven was in danger and that he needed me to help protect it. He convinced me that all those souls were defenseless and I thought- I thought that if Heaven was in danger, than so were my parents.”

You finished with a whisper, swallowing hard around the lump in your throat. Sam looked at you sympathetically; if anyone could relate, it would be a fellow hunter. Even Castiel had a compassionate look on his face. You squirmed under their gazes, uncomfortable with the pitying looks. Glancing over to Gadreel, you were unsurprised to find his focus on you. What did surprise you was the dark look on his face.

“He used your compassion against you,” Gadreel whispered angrily. “He saw the purity of your soul and took advantage. Disgraceful.”

The vehemence of his tone caught you off guard. “Gad, it’s okay, what’s done is done.”

“It is not okay,” he insisted.

“Brother, she’s right,” Castiel cut in, authority ringing in his voice once more, “we can’t change what happened. The only thing we can do now is focus on tracking down Barbiel and locating the angel tablet.”

Gadreel nodded, clearly upset. “Of course. I shall help in whatever way I can.” Castiel returned the gesture, asking Gadreel if he had any information on Barbiel that could be of use. “Unfortunately I do not,” Gadreel admitted. “I did not interact much with him; Metatron preferred to send me on…other assignments.”

“He didn’t trust you,” you blurted out before you could stop yourself. When the others turned their attention toward you, you cleared your throat and continued reluctantly, “Barbiel- he was intimidated by you, didn’t really like that you were Metatron’s second-in-command. He avoided you on purpose; he was jealous.”

“How do you know that?” Castiel asked, sounding curious.

“I…felt it, sort of. It was filtered, and he kept me pretty out of it most of the time, but I could still feel when he had a big surge of emotion. He wasn’t always able to suppress it.”

“You could feel what he was feeling?” Castiel replied, sounding baffled and intrigued by the idea.

“It wasn’t all the time, but i think it’s because sometimes he’d let me see glimpses of what we- he- was doing. Just enough to keep me pacified. I think letting me get those little peeks kept me more present than other vessels.”

“Perhaps…” Castiel replied, eyeing you critically. This time you didn’t look away, staring back at him as he examined you. It was a little unsettling to be pinned down under those electric blue eyes, but you weren’t going to shy away. Something in your expression seemed to amuse him; he ducked his head after a minute, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Schooling his expression, he looked back up, back to business. “In any event, that may be able to help in the search for Barbiel. If you can remember any other time when you were aware of his thoughts or feelings, it would be useful.”

“I’ll try,” you promised.

With a satisfied hum, Castiel turned to Gadreel, who was still looking rather grim faced. “Is there any chance that you would be able to infiltrate Metatron’s forces? Having someone whom he trusted could be of great use to us.”

Gadreel shook his head. “I fear I severed ties with Metatron the moment I stepped in last evening. He would not be willing to confide in me after stopping his agents, and then failing to report to him today. I’m sorry, brother.”

“I thought as much; it’s unfortunate, but we have agents in place already, so it’s not detrimental. Your knowledge of Metatron’s inner workings will suffice.”

Gadreel didn’t look entirely pleased that he couldn’t be of more help, but accepted Castiel’s words without complaint. You were secretly relieved that he wasn’t going to be sent to act as a spy; it bothered you to think of him in danger, surrounded by enemies as he pretended to work with them. The very thought of it sent a tingle of dread down your spine which you tamped down swiftly.

The four of you discussed what the immediate plans for the future would be as far as your presence in the bunker was concerned. Sam was surprisingly accommodating, assuring you that you were welcome to stay as long as necessary. You didn’t much like the idea of freeloading off of them, unable to go out on hunts, but he waved off your concerns, repeating that it was no trouble. You made up your mind to help on research should the need arise, determined not to be a burden on them.

It didn’t escape your attention that he didn’t address Gadreel much, speaking to him only when necessary, but you couldn’t say you were surprised. The air between them was understandably awkward and rife with tension. You couldn’t imagine what they both must be feeling, and were just relieved Sam hadn’t immediately sided with his brother in insisting the angel be cast out or worse. Dean’s reaction to Gadreel still worried you and you could only hope things didn’t get any more volatile than they already were.

As the night wore on, the grumbling in your stomach and exhaustion pulling at your limbs got harder to ignore. Right now, a hot meal, a warm bath, and a soft bed sounded like a little slice of Heaven. Trying to stifle a yawn, you forced yourself to focus on the conversation at hand. Castiel was in the middle of explaining the minutiae of his war with Metatron, and you knew it was important to focus on what was being said. Gadreel kept glancing at you, concern etched across his face. When you forced back a yawn for the fifth time, he pinned you down with his gaze, and you knew he could tell just how worn out you really were.

“Brother,” he interrupted, “perhaps we should continue tomorrow?”

Castiel quirked an eyebrow, surprised at the insistent tone in Gadreel’s voice. His eyes flicked over to you, understanding flooding his face. “Ah, yes, of course. Forgive me.”

You shook your head in protest, but before you could insist that you were fine, another yawn overtook you, and your stomach growled loud enough for everyone to hear. Sam looked apologetic, and the meeting was adjourned as he lead you to the bunker’s kitchen, leaving the angels in the war room. Gadreel looked reluctant to let you out of his sight, but kept silent. There wasn’t much in the way of groceries, but Sam made the pair of you some sandwiches and offered you a beer. You accepted gratefully, digging in with gusto. The two of you sat in silence, each preoccupied with your own thoughts.

You startled a bit when he cleared his throat to gain your attention. “You’re probably pretty tired right now, so I’ll show you to your room and save the grand tour for tomorrow if that’s alright with you.”

“Sure thing,” you agreed, thankful that you’d be getting to sleep soon. Driving all day and fighting off an angel had taken it’s toll, not to mention your argument with Dean. “Sam, I really appreciate you guys taking me in. You don’t even know me and you’re letting me crash here. And you haven’t even said ‘I told you so’ about not accepting the first time you offered.”

“Hey don’t mention it. No one could have known that the angel tablet would go missing.”

“Still, I really appreciate it. And the fact that you’re willing to take in Gadreel too- I know that can’t be easy for you.”

Sam looked down, jaw flexing. “All the stuff that happened between us…I was so angry for a long time. Hell, I still am to an extent. I understand why my brother did what he did, but that doesn’t mean I like it. And it still gets to me sometimes, thinking about the things Gadreel did while in my body. But it’s like you said, I could kind of feel what he was feeling, and I think more than anything, he felt…misunderstood. God knows I’ve screwed up plenty trying to do the right thing.”

“Every hunter has screwed up before; regret kinda comes with the job.”

He chuckled lightly, “Yeah no kidding. Which is why second chances are important. If Gadreel really is as genuine as you say he is, then I’m willing to give him a shot.”

“Thanks, Sam,” you said, grateful that the younger Winchester was a lot more forgiving than most hunters would be, yourself included.

You finished eating in silence, and Sam showed you to your room. It was sparse, but hardly the worse place you’d ever crashed. The bed called out to you, and you barely registered Sam saying good night and leaving you to rest. Stretching out on the mattress, you sluggishly toed off your boots, ready to fall asleep when a tentative knock sounded through the room. Pushing yourself upright with a groan, you called out, “Come in.”

Gadreel popped his head in, looking relieved when he saw you. “Forgive me, I know the hour is late and you wish to sleep, but I wanted to wish you a good night’s rest. Castiel and I still have much to discuss, but should you need me, I shall come.”

“Thanks, Gad,” you replied with a smile, glad that he was still checking up on you even in the safety of the bunker. “That means a lot.”

He stood in the doorway for a moment, looking as though he was wanted to say more but was holding back, finally giving you a nod and mumbling “Good night”, shutting the door behind him and leaving you in solitude.

You stared at the closed door; it was odd to think that you’d only known him for a day, but he’d already had such an impact on you that not having him at your side felt unnatural. Shaking your head in an effort to clear it of your morose thoughts, you slipped out of your jeans, climbing under the covers and making yourself comfortable, determinedly ignoring the loneliness that suddenly reared its head. Rolling over, you fell into a fretful sleep.


	4. Angel of Honesty Pt. 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader is feeling restless hiding away in the bunker, until Gadreel appears with some troubling news

_So, let me get this straight: missing museum artifacts and a bunch of dead curators with eagle feathers left behind. Based on the lore, it sounds like you’re looking for a griffin,_ you typed.

 _A griffin? Those exist?_ Sam texted back.

_Apparently. All the stuff you’ve hunted, are you really surprised?_

_Haha, no I guess not. Any way to stop it?_

_Well the lore says they can be killed with bronze, but they’re very powerful, so the easiest way to get it to stop is to return whatever’s been stolen from its hoard._

_Alright, sounds like a plan. Thanks for your help researching, it really helps._

_You guys need any backup?_

_No, it shouldn’t take too long to track down the stolen artifacts. Thanks for the offer though._

_Sure, anytime._

Setting your phone aside with a sigh, you tried to push down your frustration. You’d been under house arrest for several weeks, unable to do so much as go on a supply run; to say you were antsy would be an understatement. You needed to get out, unused to so much down time. You craved movement, and scenery other than the bunker’s walls. It was enough to set your teeth on edge. 

A small voice in the back of your head insisted that it wouldn’t be so bad if Gadreel was there with you more often. The angel had held true to his promise to help Cas, and he was rarely at the bunker these days. You knew finding the angel tablet before Metatron took priority, but you still felt ditched. It had been three days since you’d last seen him, and you couldn’t help missing your solemn shadow. In the short time that you’d traveled together, he’d managed to ingratiate himself to you.

You tried not to let it get to you, not complaining when the guys would go out on hunts and leave you alone to help with research. Sam insisted that it was a big help to them, having someone to assist on research for hunts. He even managed to sound like he meant it and wasn’t just humoring you, something that you appreciated. The hunter was swiftly becoming one of your closest friends, the two of you sharing similar tastes in music and books. He was also one of the only people alive who knew what it was like to be possessed by an angel, and live to tell the tale.

More than once you’d thought about asking about his time as Gadreel’s vessel, but you always decided against it, not willing to stir up that hornet’s nest. Tension still ran high in the bunker whenever Gadreel was there. He got along well enough with Sam, surprisingly; at least, they’d seemed to set aside their past enough to focus on the task of bringing down Metatron. You weren’t going to ruin the tentative peace by asking awkward questions.

It was Dean that was proving to be harder to come around. He made no secret of the fact that he didn’t like or trust Gadreel, even though he seemed to be warming up to you. It was difficult; you could see that Dean was a good man and a great hunter, and he had his reasons for not trusting Gadreel. But you also felt fiercely protective of the angel anytime Dean started snapping at him. Nowadays, Dean left the room whenever Gadreel entered it. It was hard for everyone, but you couldn’t force an understanding between the two.

With a heavy sigh, you pushed away from the table, standing to stretch cramped muscles. Books of lore were scattered all over, and you began cleaning them up, leaving out any that had to do with griffins just in case Sam texted you again. You’d begun the task of cataloguing the bunker’s massive library. It was a hunter’s paradise, a wealth of information on the most archaic of monsters right at your fingertips. Organizing all of it was a huge undertaking, with the added bonus of keeping you from losing your mind out of sheer boredom.

You’d been at it for several hours, periodically getting messages from Sam updating you on the case, when you heard a rustling sound behind you. Looking over your shoulder, you couldn’t stop your grin from spreading. “Hey, Gad.”

Gadreel returned your greeting, a small smile lighting up his face. “Hello. I hope you are well.”

“I’m alright, can’t really complain. How about you? It’s been awhile since I heard from you- are things going okay with you and Cas?”

“That is why I am here; there has been a development recently that you should be aware of. Castiel has gone to inform the Winchesters, and I wished…I wished to see you.”

Your heart gave a little flutter at his confession, a giddy smile threatening to overtake you. Ducking your head, you schooled your expression to a more neutral one. “What is it, what’s happened?”

He hesitated, gesturing to one of the chairs. “Perhaps it would be better if you made yourself comfortable. This may be difficult to hear.”

“Okay…” you replied uneasily, giddiness fading as you sat. Gadreel took the seat closest to you, face solemn. You could swear that he reached for your hand before stopping himself. “Gad, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

“There is no easy way to say this: Barbiel has been found.”

You went still, frozen in place. The air rushed out of your lungs as you absorbed his news, shocked at what he’d just said. It felt like you’d just been sucker punched in the gut. Shaking the stupor from your limbs, you asked through numb lips, “Where?”

“At the scene of another bombing,” he responded hesitantly, “he is dead.”

“And you’re sure it’s him?” you questioned, voice detached as you were left reeling.

“Yes. After questioning humans at the scene and reviewing security footage, we are certain that it was Barbiel.”

He certainly sounded sure; there was no room for argument in his tone, and you knew that Gadreel wouldn’t have told you unless he was one hundred percent positive that Barbiel had been killed. Dozens of thoughts swirled in your mind as you tried to process the recent development. Gadreel looked at you with concern, hovering nearby like he expected you to faint. Irritation filled you at his worried expression; yeah you were surprised, but that didn’t mean you suddenly turned into some delicate flower.

“Stop looking like I’m about to keel over. I’m fine, Gad.”

“No, you are not,” he argued gently.

You stopped yourself from snapping at him, biting your tongue to avoid saying something you’d regret later. He was right after all; you weren’t fine. For some reason, as angry as you were at Barbiel, as much as you’d thought you wanted him dead, knowing that he actually was left you feeling conflicted. Gadreel didn’t stop himself from reaching for you this time, taking your hand in his in a gentle but firm hold. He didn’t say anything, simply sat there, letting you work through the tangle of your emotions.

“So what now?” you asked after several long minutes.

“With Barbiel dead, our best chance of locating the angel tablet is gone. Meaning that you are in greater danger than ever before.”

“Metatron,” you whispered with the dawning realization that you were now the key to finding the stolen tablet.

“Our reports indicate that he has doubled the efforts to find you- it would seem that he is also aware of Barbiel’s demise. He is desperate.”

“Well, that’s just fantastic,” you muttered sarcastically.

“I know this is not what you wanted to hear,” he said regretfully, “but it is imperative you stay within the safety of the bunker. The Winchesters will keep you safe. As shall I.”

“You will huh?” you teased weakly.

“Yes, I shall. I will do whatever I must to protect you.”

Your heart gave that odd little thump again, the same fluttering it always did when Gadreel said things like that. The intense look in his eyes wasn’t helping matters, making your pulse race as the air between you thickened with what was left unsaid. You licked your lips, not missing the way his eyes darted down to follow the motion. He swallowed hard, meeting your gaze once more. Before either of you could say anything, a sharp trill filled the air, breaking the spell over the two of you.

Exhaling shakily, you searched around for your phone, the caller ID blinking up at you: Sam. Clearing your throat, you avoided Gadreel’s eyes as you answered, “Hey Sam.”

“Is Gadreel with you?” he asked, straight to the point.

“Yeah, he got here just a while ago. I take it Cas told you guys about what happened.”

“Yeah, he popped up just as we wrapped up the case. Look, we’re heading back ASAP.”

“Guys, I’m as safe as ever, don’t worry. I’ve got Gadreel here and I’m in the most secure place in the entire world. Besides, all of you seem to have forgotten that I’m a hunter too- it’s not like I’m completely helpless.”

“I know, but we can’t underestimate what Metatron might do to get to you; you’re the best link to finding the angel tablet now.”

Sighing in frustration, you were quiet for a moment. An idea began niggling at the back of your mind. You weren’t crazy about it, but your options were limited at this point. “Sam, can you pass the phone to Cas?”

There was a muffled rustling on the other end of the line and then, “Yes?” Cas’ gruff voice came through.

“Cas,” you began, unsure of how to phrase your idea, “the biggest obstacle to finding the tablet is my memory. I remember bits and pieces of what happened while I was a vessel, but not all of it. You said before when I first got here that there are ways of extracting information that someone doesn’t know they have.”

“I also said that a human wouldn’t survive the process,” he said sharply.

“No, you said you weren’t sure. But if there were a pair of angels on hand to heal me-”

“Absolutely not,” Gadreel barked out before you could finish, “out of the question.”

You turned to find him looming behind you, face angrier than you’d ever seen before. “Gadreel,” you started to say, but he cut you off.

“How can you even think of such a thing?” he asked furiously.

You could distantly hear Castiel voicing his own protests, but your focus was solely on Gadreel. “What choice is there Gad? We have to find the angel tablet before Metatron, and now I’m the best way to do it.”

“You have no idea what you are asking for! Do you know the reason a human could not survive? Shall I tell you what is involved? First, you would need to be strapped to a chair. This is to ensure you do not injure yourself before the information can be dug from your mind. It also ensures you cannot try to escape the agonizing pain. Then, pins will be drilled into your skull, tightened until all you wish for is a swift end. All this before the questioning begins. You will be so delirious with pain that you would say anything to make it stop. That is the method Castiel refers to.”

Stunned at his outburst, you couldn’t think of a response. Gadreel had never raised his voice before, certainly not to you. You could see the fierce conviction on his face, the determination to keep you from doing something rash. Jaw clenched tight, chest heaving, Gadreel looked every inch an angel of God, a ferocious warrior who could- and would- take on the armies of Heaven, Hell, and everything in between.

As stubborn as you could be, you knew there would be no convincing him when he was dead set against the idea. But that didn’t change the fact that your crappy memory was the roadblock to finding the tablet. “Well, what do you suggest then?” you snapped in exasperation.

Gadreel looked away, clearly still upset. “We will find another solution,” he answered mulishly.

“Why don’t we discuss this when we get back,” Sam’s voice piped up suddenly. Cas must have put the phone on speaker. “We should be home in a day or two; let’s not rush into anything, okay?”

“Fine,” you huffed irritably, “sounds like a plan. Or a lack of one.”

The call went dead, and you turned your back on Gadreel as you picked up where you left off on organizing the library. Things were quiet a moment before, “You are angry with me.”

“I’m not angry,” you denied tersely, still not looking at him.

“You must understand- what you suggested…it would bring a pain unlike any you have ever known before. I have experienced it first hand, as has Castiel. The thought of you undergoing such torture…I cannot…”

The last of your irritation left you, leaving you a little ashamed for snapping at him. Setting aside the rest of the books, you turned to face him. He looked weary, his expression sorrowful as you forced him to meet your eyes. Taking his face between your hands, you waited until you were sure you had his attention.

“I’m not angry at you Gad,” you said, “I’m frustrated at this whole situation. It’s not exactly like I want to sign up for having my head drilled into, but what choice is there? Metatron can’t get his hands on the tablet again.”

He brought his hands up to cover yours, leaning into your touch slightly. “There must be another way. And we shall find it.”

“Do you promise?”

“With my life.”

Smile playing at the edges of your mouth, you said, “Well, it’s not going to come to that, not if I can help it.”

He answered your smile with a small one of his own. “Yes, I would prefer that.”

Grinning outright, you finally moved to step away. His grip tightened for a fraction of a second before releasing you. Clearing your throat you looked around at the mess, suddenly uninterested in packing it away. At that moment, your stomach let out a loud grumble, letting you know that it had been some hours since you last ate, too absorbed in research to bother. Knowing that Gadreel heard, you shot him a sheepish look, cutting off his lecture before it began.

“Mind grabbing me something to eat? I can’t exactly make a food run.”

“Of course, I shall be back soon.” And with a flutter of wings, he was gone.

You made your way to your bedroom, changing into your pajamas and setting up Netflix on your laptop. The long day of research and the bombshell that Gadreel had dropped on you had left you drained, and all you wanted was to curl up with some mindless comedy. Just as your movie was starting, you heard Gadreel calling for you from the library. “In my room!” you bellowed back.

He appeared at the doorway, a take-out bag from the local diner in hand. You waved him inside, gesturing for him to make himself comfortable while you settled back against the pillows and dug in. It was just like the first time he’d made a food run for you, back before you knew just how deep the hole you’d found yourself in went. It was almost reassuring in a way.

Gadreel didn’t say much, merely shrugged out of his jacket and laid down beside you. He would occasionally ask questions about the movie, puzzled by the humor. You tried your best to explain the jokes, but were often met by with bemusement. Gradually, your eyelids got heavier and it became harder to stay awake. Your head nodded against your chest as you fought futilely against the pull of sleep. You weren’t aware of slumping over to the side, your head resting on Gadreel’s shoulder. You also weren’t aware of him easing the laptop away and shutting it, laying you down in a more comfortable position. A noise of protest left you when he slipped out of the bed, soon quieting as he pulled the blankets over your prone body. Curling up on your side, you fell into dreams, Gadreel watching over you through the night.

Over the next two days, you spent your time cleaning up around the bunker. With Sam and Dean on their way back, Castiel presumably with them, there wasn’t much else to do until they returned. Gadreel kept you company, trying to help with cleaning but often times making you laugh at his attempts. Angels weren’t all that big on housekeeping, and Gadreel certainly proved it. You appreciated his presence, glad to have him back and not all that anxious to see him leave again. There was an air of domesticity as the two of you moved around each other, one that you’d never experienced before.

You were scrubbing down the kitchen counters when you heard the front door open, voices echoing down the corridors. Shedding your gloves, you made your way to the entrance, following the sounds of Sam and Dean’s voices. By the time you got to the war room, they were already peeling off their jackets, their duffels tossed on top of the map. You greeted them with a relieved smile, glad to see them back in one piece. Sam returned your welcome with a hug, squeezing you briefly before letting you go. Dean did likewise, dropping a quick kiss to your forehead before releasing you. The easy affection was surprising, but not unwelcome.

“How’d the hunt go? Where’s Cas? I thought he was coming back with you.”

“The hunt went fine. He was with us but he got a call from one of his angels and had to take off; he said he’d be back as soon as he could,” Dean answered.

“Where’s Gadreel?” Sam questioned, “he was supposed to stay with you.”

“I have not left.” Gadreel came up behind you, standing at your shoulder like a guardian.

You glanced uneasily between him and Dean, but the hunter busied himself with his bag, ignoring the angel entirely. Sam was slightly warmer with his welcome, giving Gadreel a tight smile. He and Dean headed for their respective rooms, and you figured they’d want to relax for a while before Cas showed up. You left them to their rest, finishing cleaning and getting dinner started with Gadreel’s help. Part of you mourned the loss of easy companionship between the pair of you, the atmosphere made tense by the boys return.

You ate your dinner in the kitchen, letting Sam and Dean know there was extra if they wanted any. You settled into the library, Gadreel by your side. The time passed in silence as you and he did your best to relax. The fact that Castiel had been called away on an emergency didn’t bode well. Uneasiness crept up your spine, and you couldn’t help think that this was the calm before the storm.

Shortly before midnight, there was a rustling sound and Cas appeared in the doorway. You shifted in your seat, noticing Gadreel do the same. He nodded at you both in greeting, his expression contemplative as he took in how close you were. You had barely noticed it, but there wasn’t much space between you and Gadreel and you could practically see the wheels turning in Cas’ head. Before he could remark on it, the Winchesters walked in, looking refreshed from their few hours of downtime.

“Okay, Cas, whatcha got?” Dean questioned.

“We may have found a way to retrieve the information,” Cas said, everyone going still at his words. “I had Hannah look into it, and she discovered a method that could work.”

“What method? Is it dangerous? What of the risks involved?” Gadreel asked seriously. He was on edge, anxious about the possible dangers you could face.

“There shouldn’t be any,” Cas replied. Turning to you he continued, “Think of it as a form of hypnosis- I will reach into your mind and coax your consciousness into a state of dormancy, similar to when you were a vessel. Hopefully, it will allow the memories of Barbiel’s actions to come to the forefront of your mind.”

“Hopefully huh?” Dean asked skeptically. “But you’re not sure?”

“Unfortunately, no. There’s no way to be completely certain unless we try it.”

“And the possible repercussions?” Gadreel’s voice was strained, worry heavy in his tone.

“As I said, there shouldn’t be any. Again, it’s impossible to know without actually trying it.”

“I don’t like it,” Gadreel said darkly, “There is too much that is uncertain. What if you are unable to call her consciousness forward again? What then?”

“He’s right, Cas,” Sam put in, Dean nodding his head in agreement. “It still seems a little chancy.”

“What other choice is there Sam?” Cas asked, clearly frustrated at the resistance he was meeting.

“What about your scouts? The angels you’ve got looking for the tablet; you tellin’ us they got zilch?” Dean spoke up.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying, Dean- wherever Barbiel hid the tablet, he picked a magnificent location. So please, if any of you have any suggestions, I more than welcome them.”

“Cas, come on-” Dean began.

“Don’t I get a say in this?” you spoke up. “I mean, it is  _my_  mind we’re talking about here. Cas is right; we’re out of options. It’s been months since Barbiel stole the tablet, and we’re no closer to finding it now than we were at the start. If Cas says that this is the best way with the fewest risks, than I say let’s get this party started.”

“But-” Gadreel started to protest.

“No buts, Gad. You were right before, about the other method, but you heard Cas- it’ll be like getting hypnotized. People do that all the time. I’ll be fine.”

Gadreel looked away, fists clenched in his lap. You knew he wasn’t happy with your decision, but that couldn’t be avoided. Turning to Castiel, you nodded. “Let’s do this.”

He straightened, dragging a chair over and settling in front of you. It felt like he was staring into the very heart of you, leaving you feeling exposed, but you didn’t flinch away and stared right back. Both of you ignored the others, focused solely on each other. You tried not to jump when he reached out suddenly, bringing his hands up to press the tips of his fingers against your temples. His eyes fluttered shut and you did likewise, the world going dark as you felt the first tentative probing of his grace.

It was gradual, your conscious mind floating away like plumes of smoke on a still winter night. Your breathing slowed and you were distantly aware of Cas talking, barely making out what he was saying. Something about a tablet and angels and Barbiel. You did your best to follow his instructions but trying to go back in your memories was like swimming through molasses, slow and exhausting. You persevered and flashes of memory came to you. They passed almost too quickly to follow and you had to force yourself to concentrate on one. You almost gave up when you saw your own hand reach out and cut into a fellow angel, a sense of vindictive pleasure coursing through you as they lit up with dying grace. You could have gone a lifetime without seeing that.

Castiel urged you on once more, gently but firmly coaxing you to keep looking. More memories flashed by, until one in particular caught your attention. You focused on it, and Metatron’s office came into view. You recognized it easily, the scattered books and papers familiar. It was empty, a stroke of good luck. Your body got to work, tearing apart the office frantically, desperation and determination filling you. Something on his desk caught your interest, and as you watched, your hands reached for the typewriter sitting there. You were surprised when Barbiel seized it and eventually managed to pry it apart, revealing the stone tablet inside. An almost painful exhilaration filled you as he ran, the tablet clutched firmly in your hands.

Another memory melted into this one, and your eyes snapped open, startling Castiel. Chest heaving, you looked deep into those fathomless blue eyes.

“I know where the tablet is.”


	5. Angel of Honesty Pt. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After learning of the location of the angel tablet, Reader is determined to help track it down.

You didn’t know what it was about the men recently come into your life, for as wildly different as they all were in personality, they all had one thing in common: stubbornness.

“It ain’t gonna happen, sweetheart, so just forget about it.”

“And who the hell says I’m asking for permission,” you shot back at Dean. You should have seen it coming really. As soon as the words left your mouth, _I know where the tablet is_ , you should have realized that this would happen. Because of course you wanted to go help retrieve the tablet and of course the others would have an issue with that. Unfortunately for them, you were pretty stubborn yourself. “I’m going whether you like it or not.”

“Come on, let’s think this through,” Sam stepped in, ever the peacekeeper. “Metatron is still looking for you; going out looking for the tablet is exactly what he wants you to do.”

“And do you really think he isn’t watching the two of you like a hawk?” you asked sarcastically, “He’s not stupid Sam, he knows you’re hiding me. As soon as any of us makes a move for the tablet, his angels are gonna know. Which is why going out as a group is the best plan- safety in numbers.”

“There may be some merit in the idea,”Cas said, much to your surprised the others dismay. “Now that we know the location of the tablet, we must act quickly.”

“No, brother,” Gadreel spoke up firmly, “send a force of angels after the tablet; there is no need to involve humans in its retrieval. We will not endanger her life so recklessly. She will not go.”

“‘She’ is standing right here,” you grit out angrily. It wasn’t surprising that Gadreel wanted you to stay behind, but it still stung not to have his support. “And I say Cas is right. We have to act now.”

“But-” Gadreel began.

“Look, you don’t remember where the damn thing is exactly, right?” Dean cut in, “which means we’ve only got a general idea of where to look. Which means a lot of searching and being out in the open- exposed.”

It was true; when you’d seen the memory of Barbiel stashing the tablet, it hadn’t been an exact location. All you’d been able to make out was a small, unimpressive building and some kind of workroom. It had had the look of organized chaos, papers and files strewn about all over a handful of desks, juxtaposed with pristine counters along the walls. The walls were lined with shelving units, each meticulously labeled. Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to read any of the labels or see any signs indicating what the building was. It was aggravating to say the least.

“Cas,” you rounded on the trenchcoated angel, “can you go back inside my head again? Try to- I don’t know- dig out the memory or something?”

“Absolutely not,” Gadreel barked out before Cas could reply, “you may not feel its effects now, but Castiel’s grace has put a strain on your conscious mind. Were he to use it again, you may not wake up for days.”

“I fear he is right,” Castiel said, regret heavy in his voice, “it will be several hours at least before you are strong enough to withstand it once more.”

“But we don’t have time to wait,” you huffed out in frustration, “every minute not spent looking for the damn tablet is a minute more that Metatron gets closer to finding it first. I’m not a baby, guys, I can do this.”

“No one thinks you’re a baby,” Sam objected, “you wouldn’t have survived this long as a hunter if you couldn’t take care of yourself. But we can’t go rushing into things. We have to think this through. Why don’t you give it a few hours and then let Cas have another crack at it? It’ll give us time to come up with a plan of attack.”

“Please,” Gadreel pleaded, turning his worried eyes on you, “rest for now. Do not rush in blindly. If anything were to happen-” his voice broke off as he glanced away, his jaw working hard as he reined his words in.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but he’s right,” Dean filled the silence. “Don’t do anything stupid- think of it as a hunt: you gotta research before you can track and kill your target. Rushing in is just gonna get yourself a funeral pyre.”

Logically you knew they were right. Without a more solid idea of where to look, you were stuck. That didn’t make you feel any better though. Frustration gnawed at your insides, and without a word, you spun on your heels and stormed away. Part of you knew that you were acting ridiculous, but the rest of you told that part to shut up. You debated going to the shooting range and working off your irritation there, but you really didn’t want one of the guys, or worse Gadreel, finding you there while your were still so angry. Your footsteps took you to your room, where you slammed the door shut and locked it with childish petulance. It wouldn’t really keep anyone out, but it made you feel better nonetheless.

Sitting heavily on the bed, you sighed, the adrenaline of the argument leaving you. The world tilted briefly and you eased yourself into a reclined position. Now that you weren’t so focused on your anger, you could feel what Gadreel had been talking about. Your body felt weak and your mind felt as floppy as an overcooked noodle. It was hard to hold your eyelids open and you let them slide shut.

A quiet knock roused you. Bleary-eyed, you blinked at the door, a groan leaving you when another knock sounded. You could just hear Cas calling your name, and you shuffled out of bed to answer. The angel was alone, grim faced as he stood in front of you. Swallowing a yawn, you asked, “Hey Cas, what’s up?”

“Did you want to try searching your memories again?”

“Yeah,” you said in confusion, “but I thought you said I had to wait a couple hours.”

“It has been several hours,” he replied, looking at you with concern.

“Bullshit- no way it’s been hours, a few minutes maybe…” you trailed off uncertainly.

“Are you sure you want to try this again? We can wait a little longer if you’re not ready.”

“No we can’t,” you retorted, shaking the sleep from your limbs, “I’ve got this, don’t worry. Let’s do this.”

“Very well. I should let you know the others aren’t pleased at your insistence on joining the search. After you left, they voiced their displeasure…loudly.”

“Well, the others can suck it up and deal with it,” you said mulishly. Their overprotective attitude was starting to grate on your nerves and it was time they all realize you weren’t a child to be told what you could and couldn’t do.

“They care for you. I know the Winchesters view you as a friend and Gadreel is…fond of you. He speaks highly of you quite frequently.”

“Really?” Your heart fluttered a bit at his words, but you stifled the feeling. Just because Gadreel liked you didn’t mean he could dictate what you did, even if it was out of worry. Breathing deeply, you sat on the bed, turning toward Cas with an expectant look. “Okay, ready when you are.”

He sat down beside you, once again pressing the tips of his fingers against your temples. Knowing what to expect, you didn’t resist the feeling of muted awareness. This time, you felt more of Castiel’s presence in your mind, his grace searching for the memory of the tablet. You saw the building float into view and sort of tugged on it, just enough to get Castiel’s attention. He allowed the memory to rise to the forefront, and together, the both of you looked for clues that would reveal where the hell this building was.

There was something about the scenery that looked familiar, another memory attached to this place. The strange thing was, it wasn’t your memory, of that you were certain. It was almost as if it was Barbiel’s memory instead of yours. Staring off at the woods in the distance, you focused on the other memory instead. The shift was subtle but noticeable and suddenly you weren’t in your own memory anymore.

_Pain. Such agonizing pain the likes of which you’d never experienced before- not during the war against Lucifer, not during Castiel’s rebellion against Raphael. It consumed every last part of your being as you plummeted from your home. All around you was unbearable heat: your wings were burning. You realized the truth with a shock of horror, and just as you believed it couldn’t grow any worse, you slammed into the ground, soil and trees and grass catching fire all around the impact crater. Concentrating through the pain, you saw others, your brothers and sisters, all falling in the distance, lighting up the humans’ sky._

_Time was meaningless to an angel, but you suspected that quite a bit of it passed before you were strong enough to move. You weren’t sure how, but you managed to crawl out of the crater. You couldn’t fly- that was the most horrifying part. You were an angel without wings, lost, injured, and alone. One thing was clear: you needed a vessel. Looking around with your many eyes, you noticed a nondescript building in the distance, but could sense no human souls inside. Turning from it, you ignored the white sign in front proclaiming: Baker Heritage Museum. The words barely registered before you were off, searching for a suitable vessel, one strong enough to sustain you as you recovered. As Fate would have it, you felt such a soul at the periphery of your senses, a beacon that led you to a slumbering woman. Yes, she would do…_

Jolting out of Castiel’s hold, you exclaimed, “Baker Heritage Museum.”

“What?” he asked, startled by the suddenness of your movements.

“The building where the tablet is hidden- it’s the Baker Heritage Museum. I saw a sign with the name on it.”

“How? Where did you go? One moment, I had a firm hold on your consciousness and the next you were gone. What happened?”

“It was a memory, but not mine; I think it was Barbiel’s. The museum isn’t too far from where he fell. I saw- and felt- the whole thing.”

“You did what?” Cas asked slowly, something very much like fear and anger in his voice. “Do you know what kind of danger you placed yourself in? You could have been lost in that memory and I would have no way of pulling you out. It shouldn’t have even been possible for you to see it.”

Now it was your turn to feel a little afraid. How did you see a memory that didn’t technically belong to you? You didn’t want to think about it too much and shoved the thought to the back of your mind. “Well, I did and I’m fine now. Focus, Cas- we know where the tablet is now. Barbiel stashed it at the museum, I’m guessing in some storeroom. We’ve got to move.”

“Are you certain you’re up to it?” Cas asked.

You could sense his anxiousness; he was more impatient now than ever to retrieve the tablet, but he was also worried about your wellbeing. You shared his urgency, nodding swiftly in reassurance and rising to stand, proud of yourself when you only wobbled a little. “We don’t have time to waste, Cas.”

“Let’s inform the others.”

You sighed impatiently but agreed, following him to the war room. The others were scattered around the room, the atmosphere tense as the Winchesters ignored Gadreel. Weapons littered the large table, guns and angel blades everywhere. Three heads snapped up when you walked in, but you didn’t notice the various looks of relief and suspicion at your abrupt reappearance. Your attention was focused solely on Cas as he brought the others up to speed. It took no time at all for Sam to look the place up, figuring out that your destination was a small town in Oregon.

Cas didn’t go into detail about how you were able to see Barbiel’s memory, for which you were grateful. You just knew that if he had brought it up, you’d be benched for sure. To your relief, no one protested when Cas announced that all of you would be leaving for the museum ASAP, though Gadreel looked far from happy about it. You tried to shoot him a reassuring smile when he came to stand next to you, but his stern demeanor didn’t change: he was definitely upset.

Under normal circumstances, you would have tried to talk to him, figure out what was wrong. But these weren’t normal circumstances and you didn’t have time to hash it out with him right now. Besides, you knew why he was upset- clearly, he didn’t want you going with them. It was time he remembered that you were a hunter, and you had a job to do. You weren’t going to let him coddle you, keep you locked up out of harm’s way forever.

You armed yourself with your angel blade, just in case you ran into any hostiles. The heavy weight of Gadreel’s palm settled on your shoulder. It was comforting, and you allowed yourself to relax into it for a moment. Once all of you were armed and ready, Castiel placed a hand on Sam and Dean’s shoulders. The world blurred out of focus, leaving you with a sense of vertigo. Almost as quickly as it came, it was gone, and you found your ragtag group standing inside of the museum workroom.

It was dark, shadows dancing as the moon hid behind the clouds. You could barely see the others and, as one, all five of you moved. Splitting off into groups, you began searching for the tablet, tearing through the filing cabinets and drawers lining the walls. None of the memories had shown you the exact location of the tablet, and time was of the essence now. It was close, you knew that much; a niggling sensation scratched at the back of your head and you felt compelled to follow.

You moved a little further from the others, drifting over toward the back of the room. To your surprise, there was a second door there. It took no time at all to pop the lock, the door swinging open to reveal a small storage closet. It was stacked floor to ceiling with boxes, nothing remarkable about them, but the nagging sensation got stronger than ever. Without thinking, you began digging through them, your hands on autopilot as they tore through one box after another. Everything else melted away as you discarded various rocks and artifacts. If you had to guess, you’d wager these were old donations, those that hadn’t made the cut for display. They’d been stored away, forgotten, until you came along.

One of the boxes in the middle of the stack drew your attention more than the others. Reaching for it, your head swam the moment you touched the lid. Breaking out in a cold sweat, you swallowed hard, lifting the box out of the pile and carrying it over to one of the counters. Heart pounding in your ears, you lifted the lid, the air rushing from your lungs: inside, nestled securely on top of a leather satchel, was the angel tablet.

“Gad,” you called faintly, feeling lightheaded. Ringing filled your ears, and you could distantly hear the sounds of shouting, of metal clashing against metal and the sounds of gunfire. It was hard to focus on any of that though; something about the tablet called to you, sang out for you to take it and run. It was overwhelming, the sound of blood roaring in your ears, drowning out any sound. You couldn’t resist; reaching out a hand, your fingertips brushed against the tablet’s surface. The last thing you saw before your world got dark was Gadreel, running towards you with fear in his eyes, a stranger following close behind with a murderous look on his face and an angel blade in his hand.


	6. Angel of Honesty Pt. 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reader and Metatron have a conversation, and back at the bunker, Gadreel tries to come up with a plan.

There was no gradual shift from sleep to awareness. One moment you were unconscious, the next you weren’t. You were seated in a leather armchair, a short, curly-haired man standing over you. He lowered the two fingers that had been pressed against your forehead, giving you an oily smirk. “Hello again. Thanks for joining us.”

Any remaining confusion evaporated, and you inhaled sharply, recognizing the angel in front of you. “Metatron.”

“Bingo! Glad you remember me. I wasn’t sure since you weren’t technically  _you_  the last time we spoke.”

You tried to control the rising panic welling inside, but it was difficult. Knowing that you were in the hands of the enemy had your heart racing and palms sweaty. Everyone had warned you this would happen and you angrily berated yourself for being so bullheaded. Trying to maintain your poker face, you said nothing. Judging by the smug grin that had yet to leave his face, Metatron wasn’t fooled one bit.

“I have to say I’m impressed; you’ve managed to give me the slip for quite a while now, although not without help. We had to work pretty hard to get hold of you, especially once Barbiel bit the dust. I’ll admit, I was almost worried there for a second. Lucky for me, the teensy bit of grace leftover from Barbiel was enough to knock you out when you got too close to the tablet. And now here you are, right in the middle of Heaven, and still nothing- no whining, no crying, no begging to spare your life. It’s a pleasant surprise.”

He must have noticed you start when he mentioned you were in Heaven. “Oh don’t worry,” he reassured, “you’re not dead- there are other ways of bringing a human upstairs. Now, how long you remain that way is up to our dear Castiel. I think you’re smart enough to guess what the plan is.”

“You want to make a trade for the tablet,” you stated flatly, “but he’ll never give it up, not for me.”

“She speaks!” he exclaimed. With every word out of his mouth, you fought the desire to punch his teeth in. “You’re probably right about Castiel- but if what my spies tell me is true, that shouldn’t be an issue. Every story needs a damsel in distress and I think you’ll do nicely. I’m willing to bet Gadreel’s feeling pretty desperate right about now; by all accounts, he’s pretty taken with you. Personally, I don’t see the appeal- no offense.”

“None taken,” you replied snidely before you could stop yourself.

Metatron seemed delighted by your sarcasm. “Well, well, maybe I see the appeal after all.” There was a knock at the door, and another angel entered. Metatron motioned toward you. “Take care of our guest, Azrael- and remember, not a scratch on her.”

“What shall I do with her, sir?” the angel asked, glancing over at you disdainfully.

“I don’t care- throw her in one of the prison cells. As long as she’s not harmed. They’re going to want her in one piece when Gadreel brings me the tablet,” Metatron answered. There wasn’t a trace of doubt in his voice that Gadreel would give up the angel tablet for you. It was embarrassing how much you wanted it to be true.

Azrael gripped you firmly by the arm, hauling you out of the chair like you weighed nothing at all. It was a casual reminder of how much more powerful everyone here was compared to you. “Wait,” you shouted. Metatron turned back to you, gesturing for Azrael to hold up a moment. Licking your numb lips, you asked, “Earlier, what did you mean about Barbiel’s grace? You mean, there was still some left…inside me? Is that why I could see Barbiel’s memories when he fell?”

“You’re pretty smart for a human,” Metatron replied, sounding delighted. He waved Azrael on and sat behind his desk, for all appearances forgetting about you entirely.

Azrael’s hold never slackened as he marched you down twisting corridors, each exactly the same as the last. You tried to count the turns, but quickly became lost. You reached a stone door, and when he opened it, you saw rows of barred cells. There was no doubt in your mind that these were Heaven’s prisons and you were unsurprised when Azrael opened one and shoved you inside, slamming the door shut with a resounding clang. Without another word, he turned on his heel and left.

Left alone, you took in your surroundings. There wasn’t much to see- your view consisted of stone walls and imposing bars. Sitting on the stone bench that made up your only decoration and furniture, you couldn’t fight back the hot tears burning behind your eyes anymore. They slipped free, and you buried your face in your hands as you sobbed as quietly as possible. The fear and panic wasn’t so overwhelming when you had an adversary in front of you, but now that you were alone, it consumed you.

As much as you wanted to believe help was on the way, your practical side knew the odds were stacked against you. In the middle of enemy territory, imprisoned and surrounded on all sides, it was hard to remain optimistic. Even if you could escape, you had no way of getting back home. You hadn’t felt so lost and alone since your parents died. And so the tears came, marking salty trails down your cheeks.

Breathing deeply, you turned to your upbringing as a hunter to calm yourself down. Admittedly, this was certainly the tightest spot you’d ever found yourself in, but it was hardly the only one. Already your mind was racing with possible ways of contacting help. Perhaps Castiel had angels on the inside, someone who could bust you out or at least get a message to Gadreel. The logical side of you knew you were grasping at straws, but anything was better than giving into the mind-numbing fear again.

You sat there for what felt like days. Occasionally one of Metatron’s angels would come with food and water; they never said anything, simply slid the full trays through the bars and took the empty one away. The hope that one of them could be a spy for Cas dwindled with each ‘visit’. Left with nothing to distract you, you couldn’t help but think back to one of your conversations with Gadreel.

During one of his visits, he’d reluctantly shared his story with you, of how he’d been duped by Lucifer and punished harshly for it. You knew the basics of his past, but your memories from Barbiel were very biased and you wanted to hear Gadreel’s side of the story. He had explained that was why he’d been willing to work for Metatron in the first place; the desperate desire to clear his name had blinded him to  everything else. You’d been angry at the time, furious on his behalf that he’d been imprisoned and tortured for all those years when his crime was trusting the wrong brother. Now, being here where he’d been held for so long, you marveled a little at his resilience; how he managed to survive for so long without going completely insane was a miracle. You vowed to show as much strength.

_***The Men of Letters bunker***_

Emotions were difficult for angels to grapple with at the best of times. They were foreign, unfamiliar to Heaven’s Host and required an adjustment period even for the most positive of feelings like joy and contentment. Unfortunately for Gadreel, possessing little experience with emotions period, this was not the best of times. Anger and fear and worry warred within him; the longer you were gone, the greater they grew.

That horrifying night at the museum was seared into his mind and would remain one of the bleakest memories in his long existence. To see you fall to your knees unconscious as Metatron’s forces attacked sent a bolt of fear through Gadreel. And then, after the intense fight was ended, dead angels littering the floor, you were nowhere to be found. Gadreel had shouted for you until he was hoarse, and tore apart the building trying to find you, but to no avail. When he realized that you had been taken, he couldn’t hold back the desperate sobs racking his body.

It had taken the combined strength of the Winchesters and Castiel to keep him from immediately giving chase, and only the threat of being trapped in a ring of holy fire kept him from acting rashly as they waited. Even so, with every hour that you were gone, his mind concocted terrifying scenarios; he knew first hand how it felt to be on the receiving end of Heaven’s wrath.

Sitting on your bed, he stared off into nothing. He didn’t require sleep, but he tried to force his mind to a place of restfulness anyway- he would need to be ready if and when they made their move. Here, surrounded by your scent and thoughts of you, he felt something close to peace. Gadreel knew that even now Castiel was plotting his next step, planning for a hundred different possibilities. His brother had asked for his input, but Gadreel knew he was too compromised right now to give clear and measured advice. His greatest concern was getting you back.

Footsteps down the corridor headed for his door. He was unsurprised when the door opened. Dean stood in the doorway, jerking his chin towards Gadreel. “Cas wants you- he says there’s been a message from Metatron.”

Gadreel was on his feet in the blink of an eye, startling Dean. As he made his way past the hunter, Dean stopped him. “Listen,” he began uneasily, “I know you and me don’t exactly have a great history, but I wanna let you know we’re gonna get her back. Right now, Metatron knows she’s his biggest trump card, so he’s not stupid enough to let anything happen to her. So just…know that you’re not gonna face this alone.”

Caught off guard, Gadreel could only stare at the hunter. Swallowing hard, he said, “Thank you, Dean Winchester. Your words are kind and your offer is…appreciated.”

“Yeah, well, losing someone you care about is about the worst damn thing that can happen, and besides, she’s our friend too. So what do you say we go see what the great commander has to say.”

Gadreel nodded and together they made their way to the war room, the silence between them not quite comfortable but not as strained as it once was. When they entered the war room, Sam gave Gadreel a friendly nod, another unexpected sign of camaraderie. Cas stood at the front of the table, a solemn look on his face. Once the others were settled, he said, “One of Metatron’s men has contacted us with a deal.”

“Let me guess,” Dean piped up, “they want an exchange.”

Cas nodded, mouth set in a tight line. “He’s willing to trade for the angel tablet,” he confirmed. “We have until tomorrow to decide.”

“So what are our options?” Sam asked.

“The tablet is safe for now; very few of my forces know that we’ve secured it,” Cas said. “And I’m certain that none of them would be willing to exchange it for anything or anyone. There is too much at risk should Metatron get his hands on it once more.”

“But if we say no deal, he’s gonna kill her,” Dean argued.

“He will do so regardless,” Gadreel spoke for the first time, his voice emotionless. “Once he has what he wants, there is no doubt in my mind he will seek to kill us all. He will want to secure his power and make it clear what happens when he is crossed. He cannot risk letting any of us live.”

“I believe you’re right,” Cas agreed grimly, “I highly doubt he’ll be willing to let his enemies live once he has the power of the tablet.”

“Great,” Dean huffed, “So either we keep the tablet and let our friend die, or we give him what he wants and we all die. Awesome.”

“There has to be another way,” Sam argued.

“I believe,” Gadreel said slowly, the wheels turning in his head, “I have an idea.”


	7. Angel of Honesty Pt. 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gadreel tries a desperate gamble that has far-reaching consequences.

There was something different about today. Even all the way down in the dungeons, you could feel a shift in the air, a buzz of energy. You had felt it the instant you woke up and you hadn’t stopped pacing the tiny cell since.  Your adrenaline was already pumping when the angel came in. She wasn’t carrying your morning meal; instead, she unlocked your cell door. You didn’t resist when she gripped you by the arm and tugged you forward, gesturing for you to follow her. Without a backward glance, she turned and led you away from your prison.

“What’s happening?” you questioned. Unsurprisingly she didn’t respond, acting as if you hadn’t said a word, the only indication that she’d heard you a slight tightening at the corners of her mouth. A stray thought crossed your mind that you’d probably been just like her when you were a vessel, but you pushed it aside. There were more important things to focus on now.

The feeling of anticipation grew the longer you walked. Angels were dashing about all over the place, each one moving with purpose. None of them bothered you and your escort, and soon you found yourself standing in Metatron’s office once more. Your guard left the two of you without a word, and you glanced uneasily at him as the door shut behind her. The wide grin on his face was disturbing, and you just knew you weren’t going to like whatever had put it there.

“So good to see you again! I hope you’ve been enjoying your stay, but it looks like it’s time to say goodbye,” he said with mock sadness. “Parting is such sweet sorrow.”

“What did you do?” you ground out.

“Me? All I did was make a very simple offer, one that Gadreel couldn’t refuse. Once my messengers got the word out that I was willing to make a trade, he couldn’t wait to sell out Castiel and your little hunting pals.”

“You’re lying,” you breathed out, dread growing in your belly. As much as you wanted to believe that Gadreel would swoop in guns blazing, there was too much at stake. You prayed he hadn’t done something rash.

“Oh come on, you know I’m not. I told you, he’d do anything to get you back,” Metatron countered. “He’s always been a colossal disappointment, but if there’s one thing I could always rely on him for, it’s doing what is in his best interests. He couldn’t wait to turn on Castiel once he saw a way to get what he wanted: you.”

“Stop. Talking,” you bit out. Barely a minute had passed and already you longed to take a stab at him. Your fingers clenched into tight fists, longing for an angel blade to bury in his chest.

“Aw, I thought you’d be happy. After all, he’s doing this for you.”

“Gadreel isn’t stupid enough to make a trade. He knows there’s too much to lose- it’s better to just let me die.”

“Oh I agree, but I’m afraid you’re giving his intelligence too much credit. You see, he’s not thinking straight right now and I have you to thank for it. This never would have worked if you hadn’t wiggled your way into his heart. Before you entered the picture, I didn’t think he had one,” Metatron taunted.

Shaking with anger, you could only glare at him. Metatron smirked, leaning back in his chair, daring you to say something. Before you could, there was a knock at the door. You both turned toward it and Metatron was in front of you in an instant, shackles suddenly appearing on your wrists as he called out a command to enter. Turning to look back at you, he grinned. “Showtime!”

Any retort you had died in your throat when you saw Gadreel walk in with Cas, guards surrounding them both. His eyes automatically locked on your face and you felt your heart skip a beat at the look he gave you. The relief in his gaze was tangible, and you were unaware of taking a step towards him until Metatron yanked you back harshly by the elbow, his grip hard enough to bruise. Anger flashed in Gadreel’s eyes at Metatron’s rough handling.

As thrilled as you were to see him alive and unharmed, you wished to God that he hadn’t come. The feeling of dread only grew when you noticed the cuffs on Castiel’s own wrists and the angel tablet held firmly in Gadreel’s hands.

“Gadreel…” you whispered in horror. Standing so close to the tablet, you felt its effects once again, shaking away the feeling of lightheadedness. Now was not the time to succumb to the pull the tablet had over you.

“So glad to see you again, Gadreel!” Metatron boomed out. “I knew you would come to your senses once you had the right incentive.”

“Don’t do this, Gadreel,” Cas pleaded, “you’re making a mistake, Metatron is not to be trus-”

One of the guards silenced Cas with a blow to the back of his head. He fell to his knees with a groan as Gadreel looked on impassively. “Cas!” you exclaimed.

“Hey now, that’s enough of that,” Metatron chided. “There’ll be plenty of time later to play with Castiel but for now, why don’t you guys beat it. It’s a little too cozy in here for my tastes.” Despite the playful tone in his voice, it wasn’t a request.

The other angels scowled at Cas and Gadreel with hostility but did as commanded, leaving the four of you alone. Even though you technically had Metatron outnumbered, there was no doubt in your mind that he had the upper hand and everyone knew it, especially Metatron. He launched into a long winded monologue that you only paid slight attention. It was impossible to tear your eyes away from Gadreel, a sense of foreboding growing in your belly. You knew in your heart that there was no way he would turn his back on Cas after everything they’d fought for, which meant the two of them had something up their sleeves.

You turned your attention back to Metatron when he pulled you forward. “You know Gadreel, I’m disappointed in you,” he taunted, “you could have backed the winning side, done something right for a change. And instead, you blew it. And for what? For a human? It’s a real shame. If you’re going to be a turncoat, you should at least make it for something important.”

Gadreel’s jaw flexed as he bit back his reply, refusing to rise to Metatron’s bait. Instead, he reached down and pulled Cas to his feet, giving Metatron a truly impressive bitchface. “You said you wished to bargain.”

“Straight to business, I like it! Although it’s not surprising that you’d cut right to getting what you want. I was just telling your lovely friend here that I could always count on you to do what’s best for you. The only true loyalty you have is to yourself,” Metatron sneered.

“You’re wrong,” you cut in before you could think better of it. Metatron’s words had you seeing red, especially when you saw the pained look on Gadreel’s face.

“Am I? Excuse me, have you been paying attention at all?” Metatron asked. “But of course you’d stand up for him- after all, it’s for you that he’s done all this. You’ll have to forgive me for saying he’s nothing but a traitor who turns his back on his allies at the first opportunity. I mean, just look at Castiel.” He gestured to the bound angel. “It’s too bad we couldn’t have been on the same side Castiel, it truly is. I could have really used an honorable angel like you.”

“And what would you know of honor?” Cas spit out. “Were you so concerned with honor when you set me up, to make it look like I was the one who arranged the suicide bombers?  _I_  was not the one to instruct them to carve the sigil into their flesh! _I_  was not the one to convince them it was for the glory of Heaven! You were!”

There was a long silence, the tension heavy in the air. Metatron merely tilted his head to the side and smiled; it wasn’t a pleasant look. “So? What’s your point?”

“Then you admit it? Not an ounce of shame that you sent our brothers and sisters to their deaths?” Gadreel said.

Metatron burst into laughter at that, wiping at his eyes. “That’s a little rich coming from you isn’t it? I mean, how many of them died at your hands?”

“Metatron, you have betrayed the trust that was placed in you; you’re only interested in your own power,” Cas said, standing tall and proud.

“So what? None of that is going to matter soon. Gadreel, enough chitchat, the tablet and Castiel for the girl. You get what you want and I get what I want- everybody wins. Well, everybody except you Castiel. You’ve been a thorn in my side for too long; I’ve got plans for you. And by the time I’m through with you, no one is going to question me or care about a few dead angels.”

“You give our brothers and sisters far too little credit. They will soon learn that you have been playing them,” Gadreel said.

“And then? They will do nothing because they are frightened little sheep following my crook wherever it leads. And where I’m taking them, back to our rightful place atop this mountain of human shame and excrement– when that happens, trust me, they’re not gonna care how they got there,” Metatron shot back. “You know why you could never quite pull it together, Castiel, why you’re sitting here with your grace slowly burning away and your reputation long extinguished, that disgrace at your side? No curiosity. You didn’t read enough. You never learned how to tell a good story.”

“But you did,” Cas said, staring Metatron down before stepping to the side, gesturing to the table behind him.

Both you and Metatron looked in confusion to what Cas was pointing at. The microphone resting there looked perfectly ordinary to you and you didn’t quite get what the big deal was, but Metatron sure did. Panic flooded his face as the office door burst open, angels pouring in, fury burning in their eyes. It was complete chaos, and in the pandemonium you were pushed to the side as Metatron dove for Gadreel and the tablet. Gadreel saw him coming though, and shoved him away.

The next moments seemed to happen in slow motion. You could see the instant Gadreel made his decision, determination written on his face as he raised the tablet above his head. He hurled it toward the ground, a giant rumble shaking the room as the tablet shattered into pieces. Metatron made a desperate lunge for it, but it was too late- the damage was done. The other angels all paused a moment to stare at the broken shards. Rage unlike anything you’d ever seen rolled off of Metatron in waves, and before anyone could reach him, he wrestled an angel blade away from one of Castiel’s men and flew straight for you.

There was no pain; that was the strange thing. One moment, you were standing there in stunned disbelief, the lure of the tablet gone, and exulting in Castiel and Gadreel putting an end to Metatron’s schemes. The next, you were staring into Metatron’s eyes as he smirked viciously, the angel blade in his hand lodged deep in your stomach. Distantly, you were aware of someone shouting, but you were unable make out the words. Metatron was torn away, subdued by the angels. Before you had a chance to fall forward, Gadreel was there, tears glistening in his eyes as he held you tight. You couldn’t really feel his grip, too cold and suddenly so tired.

You were safe now; Gadreel had you, and he’d watch over you like he always did. You could afford to rest.

Your eyes slid shut.


	8. Angel of Honesty Pt. 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The reader is faced with a choice.

You rolled over with a grumpy whine, pulling the blankets up over your head in a futile attempt to block out the sunlight filtering through the curtains. If you could get just five more minutes…

That hope was quickly dashed when you heard your parents tromping around in the kitchen, the noisy clatter of breakfast being made waking you up further. With a sigh of resignation, you threw the comforter to the side, stretching your sore back with a groan. The lumpy mattress wasn’t the best you’d ever slept on, but it was a hundred times better than what cheap motels had to offer. 

Rubbing at your sleep crusted eyes, you looked around blearily. You and your parents had gotten to the little cabin late last night, a safe house they kept well stocked at all times. The three of you had just finished up a rough hunt, one in which you’d been tossed around like a rag doll. Your father had killed the witch in the end, and they both decided a family vacation was in order to let you recover. So until your back healed up some, it was nothing but slow days of hiking and swimming in the nearby lake. You could rest easy in the knowledge that the woods were empty of any monsters; your parents had seen to that.

When you made your way into the kitchen, they greeted you with relieved smiles. You knew they’d been worried about you- you had hit the wall pretty hard when the witch threw you around. You returned their greetings, pouring yourself a cup of coffee, inhaling the aroma greedily. Your dad planted a kiss to the top of your head, and you smiled at the gesture, fixing a plate for yourself and sitting next to your mom at the table. She squeezed your hand lightly before turning to her own food.

It was a lazy morning, the kind that were extremely rare in your lifestyle. You sat with your parents long after the food was gone, just chatting with them about whatever came to mind. You hadn’t felt so at ease in a while, and you luxuriated in the tranquility. In spite of the peace, there was something off, a nagging voice at the back of your mind telling you something wasn’t right. You couldn’t shake the sense of déjà vu as you looked around the cabin. You didn’t realize that you’d been staring off into space until your dad called your name, pulling you from your thoughts.

“You okay there, baby? Sure you didn’t take a hit to the head?” he asked with concern.

Shaking your head, you reassured him, “No, I’m good, dad, just thinking is all.”

“Are you sure?” your mom asked.

“I’m fine, mom, don’t worry.”

“Okay, baby. What do you say we go take a walk around the lake later? Just because we’re on vacation is no excuse to get soft.”

“Sounds good,” you replied, “you sure you’re gonna be able to keep up?”

“Haha, laugh it up. We’re not so feeble and infirm just yet; there’s a few good years left in us yet,” your dad shot back jokingly.

“Yeah, well, I’ll hold you to that,” you said with a grin. Your smile faded as, once again, the feeling of wrongness swamped you. Forcing the thought away, you helped clear the table, leaving the dishes for later. All three of you left to change into hiking gear, making sure to carry at least one gun and a knife; better safe than sorry was a mantra your family swore by.

The air outside was crisp and cool, the promise of autumn hanging in the air. The morning light danced along the treetops, lighting up the yellows and reds and browns. It was like a picture, and you committed the sight to memory, taking in deep lungfuls of the clean air. Your mom called your name, grabbing your attention. She and your dad were already farther up the small hiking trail. “What was that you were saying about us keeping up?” he joked.

“Yeah, yeah,” you laughed back, striding over to them.

The time passed in relative silence; occasionally small talk and laughter broke the still air, but for the most part, you enjoyed the quiet. Every once in awhile, one of them would ask you how you were doing, if your back was hurting you. You waved them off every time, both exasperated with and relishing in their concern. Ever since you were a kid, you knew the one thing you could count on in the insane lifestyle of a hunter were your parents. As long as you had them, you’d do alright.

A slight breeze blew, stirring the leaves above. Listening to the quiet shush as they rustled against each other, you could have sworn you heard someone whispering your name, even though neither one of your parents had said anything. Looking around, you didn’t see anyone else; it was just the three of you for miles. Shrugging it off as your imagination, you continued on, accepting the water bottle your mom handed to you gratefully.

It was almost midday when you finally reached the lake, and your dad groaned out that he was more than ready for a break. You bit back a sarcastic quip, but he wasn’t fooled one bit by the grin on your face. Your mom merely rolled her eyes at the two of you, determined not to get involved. Soon enough, you had set up a little picnic, the three of you munching on sandwiches and cookies. Another breeze rippled across the water, rustling the leaves overhead. Again, you heard someone whispering your name, but a quick glance at your parents made it clear they hadn’t heard anything. Maybe you  _had_  hit your head?

The thought was quickly forgotten when your dad challenged your mom to skipping rocks across the lake. Your mom was a fiercely competitive woman, and not one to back down from a challenge. You grinned in anticipation, shamelessly heckling them both. Your dad couldn’t pass up the opportunity to trade quips with you, but your mom had her eyes on the prize, not letting anything distract her. It was unsurprising when she beat your dad and you laughed at the disgruntled look on his face and the smug look on hers.

You turned to the seat next to yours, ready to share the joke with…someone. But of course there was no one there. Your laughter died as you looked around, searching for something that you didn’t have a name for. Suddenly feeling out of place, you tried to steady your nerves when your dad called for you, asking you to help pack up your lunch. You lost yourself in the mundane task, and soon you were headed back to the cabin, your head and stomach throbbing.

Your parents walked on ahead, unaware of you falling behind. Just as you were about to rush and catch up with them, you heard the same voice calling your name, this time much louder. Turning, your pack hit the ground with a thud. Standing tall, looking at you like you were his whole world, was Gadreel. The sight of him brought it all rushing back; you remembered Barbiel, and the angel tablet, and Metatron. You remembered the blade sticking out of your gut, the front of your shirt growing dark with blood. You remembered staring up into Gadreel’s eyes as the world got colder and dimmer. You remembered dying.

Your legs moving of their own volition, you sprinted at him. Gadreel held his arms wide and clung on tight when you crashed into him. Standing under the autumn leaves, safe in his arms with your parents farther in the distance, there was no doubt in your mind that this was your heaven, your best memory made complete now that you had Gadreel at your side once more. He whispered your name over and over again, chanting it to himself like a prayer.

“I died,” you mumbled into his shirt. It wasn’t a question.

“Yes.”

“And this is my personal heaven?”

“Yes. I went looking for your heaven the moment you passed.”

“You did?” you questioned, losing yourself in his eyes. He nodded solemnly. You looked around you, taking in the perfection that Heaven had created for you. “So what happens now?”

“That is for you to decide. If you wish, you can choose to stay here in this haven with your loved ones for eternity. No harm will come to you, and you would know peace.”

Sucking in a breath, you stared after the retreating backs of your mom and dad, a deep ache to join them filling you. Glancing down, you asked him, “And what about you?”

Gadreel was quiet for a long moment. “If you will allow it,” he began slowly, “I would remain at your side and share your heaven with you. If…if you will have me.”

You drew back slightly, stunned at his words. Gadreel stiffened in your arms, refusing to meet your gaze. Brushing your fingers along his jaw, you delicately turned his face towards yours. When he hesitantly met your eyes, you saw doubt and uncertainty there. And love, so much love it knocked the breath out of you. Without a word, you caught his lips with yours.

It took him a moment to react, and then he was holding you tighter than ever. He kissed you with a desperate hunger, one you matched with your own passion. The heat of his lips seared you to the core and you got lost in the touch and taste and feel of him. All around you was Gadreel and your heaven truly felt whole. By the time you finally pulled away, you were both laughing through the tears covering your faces. Gadreel rested his forehead against yours, murmuring softly, “You’ve no idea how long I wished to do that.”

“Then why didn’t you?” you chuckled weakly.

“I was unsure if my feelings for you were reciprocated and I did not wish to drive away the one person I cannot bear to be without. Castiel said I was being foolish and to tell you how much you meant to me.”

“Next time, listen to Cas.”

He laughed, the sound of it beautiful to your ears. He brushed another kiss to your forehead, raining kisses on you now that he was sure of your feelings for him. Your smile grew larger with each one, and by the time he reached your mouth, you couldn’t contain your giddiness. All you wanted was for this moment to last forever. It occurred to you that if you chose to stay, that was possible. You could be with Gadreel and have your parents again, never have to worry about hunting or monsters. The idea was tempting.

It wasn’t without regret that you asked, “And what if I choose not to stay?”

“If that is your choice, my grace may be weak, but it is enough to restore your life. And there are more than enough angels who desire to get in Castiel’s good graces now that Metatron has been exposed as a fraud,” he added dryly.

You chuckled, staring longingly in the direction where your parents had disappeared. As much as you wanted to follow after them, you knew you couldn’t. There was too much work to do back home. Too many monsters to hunt, too many people to save. Your choice was clear. Lacing your fingers with Gadreel’s, you said, “Let’s go.”

“You are certain?”

“Yeah,” you said, your resolve growing. “Besides, I’ve got my own little slice of heaven as long as I’ve got you.”

Gadreel was gracious enough to grin at your terrible joke, raising two fingers to your forehead. You shut your eyes, and when you opened them, you found yourself back in Metatron’s office. Cas was there, as well as a handful of other angels. Metatron was nowhere to be seen. When he saw you stirring in Gadreel’s arms, Cas broke off his quiet conversation with the woman he was talking to, striding over to the pair of you. He helped you both to your feet; resurrecting you had put a strain on Gadreel’s grace and you were still a little shaky.

“Hey Cas, good to see you.”

“Likewise,” he said with a small smile, relief shining in his eyes.

“So, victorious at last huh? What are you gonna do now, oh great leader?” you teased lightly.

He rolled his eyes at your nickname. “There’s a lot of work to do if we’re going to restore Heaven to what it once was.”

“Whatever aid I can lend is yours for the asking, Castiel,” Gadreel spoke up, an arm wrapped  firmly around your waist. He hadn’t let you go since appearing in your heaven and you didn’t mind one bit.

“Thank you for the offer, brother, but for now, why don’t you focus on more important matters,” Cas replied with a pointed glance in your direction.

Looking at you like you were his whole world, Gadreel told him, “I believe I shall take your advice, brother.”

Cas nodded, a smile tugging at his lips when he was called away by one of the other angels. Hugging you close to his side, Gadreel asked,  “And where shall we go first, my love?”

Thinking back to your heaven and the lake and trees and that little cabin you hadn’t been to since your parents died, you answered, “I’ve got an idea.”


	9. Angel of Honesty epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gadreel’s been doing some research and has a question for Reader.

“And so then I turn to the witch and was like ‘I can show you where you can stick your broom, asshole’.”

“So what’d you do?” Sam asked, the grin growing on his face.

“I put my money where my mouth is,” you answered from behind the lip of your beer bottle.

“You should have seen her Sammy, it was hilarious! The look on the dude’s face was priceless! He’s going on and on about how he’s got us cornered when outta nowhere, she pulls out an actual broom handle and beats the crap out of him. With a broom!” Dean laughed out. “She really knows how to clean up the trash.”

Sam and you let out a groan at his terrible pun. “Man, I wish I’d been there to see it,” Sam said.

It was late, and you and Dean had just gotten back from a witch hunt in Vermont. Sam had stayed back, recovering from a cracked rib courtesy of a particularly feisty spirit on a previous hunt. It hadn’t been too difficult and in the end, the witch was no match for you and Dean. You laughed and joked with the brothers, enjoying the relaxed atmosphere in the kitchen. As soon as he’d known that you were on your way back home, Sam had made a late dinner and had ice cold beers waiting for the two of you.

Stifling a yawn, you glanced at your watch, noting the late hour. “Alright, boys, I’m beat. I’m going to bed.”

“Good night.”

“Night.”

A fluttering sound echoed in the room and Gadreel stood just before you, a smile already lighting his face at the sight of you. Even after a year together, he had the ability to set your heart racing with a single look. You went to him gladly, your arms automatically going around each other. It was the most natural thing in the world to meet his lips halfway, and you got lost in the heat of his mouth on yours, his broad hands skimming down your back and sides.

A harsh cough interrupted you. Breaking away reluctantly, you glanced over your shoulder to see Dean and Sam looking extremely uncomfortable. “You, uh, you two mind taking that somewhere else?” Dean asked squeamishly.

“Of course, Dean, our apologies,” Gadreel replied as you sheepishly buried your face in his jacket.  

Throwing out one last good night, you let Gadreel lead you away, his arm draped snugly around your waist. In the privacy of your own room, you allowed yourself to be drawn in close once more. Gadreel’s kiss was slow and achingly sweet as you both savored the moment. You were breathless and slightly dizzy when he finally released you, settling himself in your bed as you changed into your pajamas.

You preened a little for him, putting on a show as you stripped off your hunting clothes and pulled on your tank top and sleep shorts. You could feel his eyes burning into your skin with every movement, wiggling your hips playfully. You heard him huff out a chuckle at your antics, and when you crawled into bed beside him, he pulled you on top of his chest, cradling the sides of your face between his hands and kissing you soundly.

Just as things were getting a little heated, he pulled away slightly, his breathing harsh and uneven. “My love, a moment. There is something I would like to ask of you.”

Slightly disheveled, you sat back, looking at him questioningly. “What is it, angel?”

Shifting in place, he took your hands in his. “Dearest, you know I am unfamiliar with many of humanity’s customs. Your patience with me as I have familiarized myself with them has been greatly appreciated, and is a blessing I do not deserve.”

“Gad…” you began, but he cut off your protest.

“Let me finish, love. I have been reading up on the practices and customs shared between lovers. It’s come to my attention that often times lovers will bind themselves together through marriage. I know that when you ascend to Heaven, I will share your paradise, but if you will have me, I would share your earthly life as well.” He reached into his back pocket and pulled out a silver ring. He held it out to you, looking at you with such love and hope it made your heart burst.

You stared at the ring a moment, not quite believing your eyes. Yes, you loved him and yes, you did plan to share your Heaven with him when you died. But you never expected him to pop the question. You were proud of how slight the trembling of your fingers was as you reached out to take the ring from him. It had no stones, just a plain silver band with protective sigils carved into the sides. It was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen.

Sliding the band onto your finger, you held it up, admiring the perfect fit. Meeting Gadreel’s eyes, you smiled.


End file.
